When Love Comes Knockin' At Your Door

by seaecho

When the Monkees unexpectedly get a new roommate, things get interesting and very exciting when she falls for two of them, and they fall for her. Sexual situations, some language. Peter is more like the real life Peter. Slash warning. Reviews are welcome and appreciated!

1. Chapter 1

CHAPTER ONE

What was I going to do? The day was looming closer, and desperation was just around the corner. I remember it like it was a week ago, although its been over 45 years. It was the mid '60s. Los Angeles could be a very intimidating city. Any metropolitan area is, but when you are faced this suddenly with the threat of having no roof over your head, it is especially so. Californians are generally a compassionate, easy going people, but in these uncertain days of increasing crime and turmoil, social unrest, trust was fading fast. You no longer dared to take in someone off the streets, even if this person were a nice person, a victim of circumstance.

For the first time, people were starting to become wary of hitchhikers, sexual predators and the like. Serial killers like the Manson family had seriously spooked everyone.

Hard drugs were becoming more and more commonplace. The world seemed to be becoming a less friendly, hospitable place than it was just 10 years ago. It was the hippie era, and a revolution of sorts was taking place. Nothing was certain anymore. Nothing was black and white.

So, a 22 year old girl with no place to call home had a high probability of not having a happily ever after ending. Being pretty back then just made it all the more forboding. I doubted I'd last a week living on the streets. Someone, somehow, would take advantage of me, rape me, kill me. Probably all three. And if I were to somehow evade these things, where would I get food, even the most basic shelter? How would I even be able to shower and look presentable at work?

I shuddered, remembering the events of the last weeks. My roommate of one year had lost her job and had no choice but to move back home with her parents. She didn't want to leave me in the lurch, and had cried when she had told me about the lay-off, knowing I could not afford to stay in the apartment alone. But that was life, and nothing could be done about it.

Posting ads in the local paper for a new roommate had gotten me nowhere. Neither had flyers or word of mouth. People didn't want to move in with someone they didn't know-and that went back to the trust issue. Either that, or the very few people who did answer my ad would either have no jobs or incomes, or would simply not show up when I had made appointments with them to meet me and see the place. Even single rooms for rent were too expensive; after paying for food and gasoline I would not have had enough left over for rent.

I had not lived here long enough to have a lot of friends, having moved to California from Arizona. And those people I did know or worked with were either married or already had roommates. It seemed no one in Southern California was looking to share an apartment right now. Now that the rent would be due in two weeks, I was in such a state of desperation that I was willing to let just about anyone move in. Almost anything was better than being homeless.

An older lady came by, looked around and turned her nose up. That was when I realized the situation had become dire. I had to find a solution fast, or find myself on the streets in two weeks. This was when I started to feel true panic creeping in.

I began making calls to anyone and everyone I knew. I had no family-all that I had kept in touch with had passed away, including my parents, and I had no siblings.

A few people offered their couch to me, but made it clear that it could only be for a few days at most. I couldn't blame people when I thought about it, as there was always an abundance of freeloaders waiting to camp out on someone's couch, and not willing to offer a dime toward their keep. Besides, people needed their privacy, and having someone living on your couch is just not conducive to that.

After about two dozen calls, I had exhausted my list of everyone I knew here and in Arizona. Even if I moved back to Arizona, I'd have to find another job. That would put me in an even worse position. At least here, I had an income, however meager it might be.

It was Saturday, and there was practically no food in the apartment, and I had to eat, so I reluctantly dragged herself up off the couch, feeling the malaise weighing me down, yet brushing away the cobwebs of self pity and got ready to go to the grocery store.

Grabbing a few cans of soup and ramen noodles, some produce, juice, cereal, milk and eggs, I was headed for the checkout counter when a shopping cart suddenly came careening around the corner on two wheels, going much faster than I had ever seen one traveling inside a store. It happened so quickly that I had no time to steer my cart away from it, so the carts collided head-on, items flying helter skelter from the other cart, which was overloaded, and was being half pushed and half ridden much like a skateboard, by a young man, probably in his early 20s. Behind him trailed three other young men, all around the same age, give or take a few years. They all, in turn, crashed into each other when the cart had come to a screeching stop.

I had nearly fallen over from the impact, and the guy who had been pushing his cart immediately ran to my rescue. "Oh god, I'm so sorry! We were just being silly, going too fast, we didn't see you coming, oh god, please forgive us." The guy said this in such a hurried way that his mouth could hardly seem to keep up.

In spite of myself, I giggled. It really was comical, and I appreciated the distraction from my worries. But to my horror, a few seconds later, without warning, I started to cry. I was not the type to cry in public, but I suppose all the stress I was going through and then the shock of the shopping cart collision had broken something loose inside of me. Something that hadn't been secured well to begin with, apparently.

"Oh no! Are you hurt? But you were just laughing. . .?" The funny, hyper guy had such concern on his face. And what a face it was. A face that would be impossible to describe. Flyaway, wild hair that was somewhere between medium and light brown. "My name's Micky, and here are my friends, Peter, Davy and Mike. Now please tell us if you're hurt. . . ?"

Humiliated, I wiped the tears away. "No, I'm not hurt," I blurted out. "I'm just stressed out. I'm okay."

I started to steer my cart around theirs, picking up random items that were strewn around and putting them back in the guys' cart. Single guys, that was apparent. There were packages of cookies, Spam, pork and beans, Pepsi, Cheetos and beer. All things that seemed to be staples with single guys.

I couldn't help but look at the three other guys as I tried to pass them without rolling over the box of animal crackers that lay right in front of my cart's wheel. What an interesting looking group they were. They sported the long hair that was currently all the rage. The blonde one grabbed the animal crackers as if his life depended on it, smiling at me shyly in the process. Oh my. . .! That dimple in his right cheek! Positively arresting!

Next was a very short guy, dark hair, dark eyes, and probably the most handsome face I'd ever seen outside of an Elvis movie. He was a combination of impossibly cute and drop-dead gorgeous, a combination I had never seen before or since on anyone. He took my breath away as he seemed to study me intently.

The last one was tall with dark hair, big sideburns and a wool hat. He was very imposing, and looked as if he were the strong, silent, level headed type. No smile broke on his face, but I had the feeling he had a kind heart. He looked serious and dignified compared to the others, sporting an ever-patient air about him. He would have to be patient if he were subjected to this kind of behavior from them on any kind of a regular basis.

"Wait a minute, here," said the tall one. The one called Mike, if I remembered correctly. "We need to find out why she's crying. We can't let a lady in distress just walk away."

I instantly liked all four of these guys. They looked to be good friends-they were even having fun grocery shopping! And they stood in a concerned semi-circle around me. All the attention was centered on me. I couldn't help but feel strangely special.

"Oh, I'm alright. Just a bit emotional."

"Well now, mate, I am a specialist in that field," stepped up the small, devastatingly handsome one. "First, what is your name, and what you say you tell us all about it, and what is making you feel so down?" Not only was he adorable, but he had an English accent! Oh my, sexy! And he was the same height as me, so I imagined he was only about 5'3."

"Oh, its personal. And my name is Kerri." I was really embarrassed. Here were four strangers who had seen me crying, and were now asking me to tell them my troubles. And the amazing part was that they really seemed to care! Not usually a notable trait in young men who were always thinking about their next adventure.

"Well, would you like to go out for coffee later Kerri? Talk about it?" asked the little one. Little charmer, he was. A fast mover too. I was betting he knew his way around women. He certainly knew how to take advantage of a situation.

"But I don't even know you!" I had to laugh.

"Well, thanks to the shopping carts, we know each other now! I am very much a gentleman, and you don't have to worry about me, right fellows?" he said over his shoulder, and all three guys nodded in agreement, heads bobbing in unison.

I could hardly believe it myself, as I never accepted dates from guys I didn't know, but found myself agreeing to meet him at six. I just couldn't resist. How often does a guy this good looking walk up and ask you out on a date? It was summer, and coffee seemed to me to be a little odd in this heat, but I couldn't help it-I was taken in with this guy's charm.

I tried to remember all their names. I could remember Micky, as he had the unique face, and was also the one who had run their cart into mine. I remembered Davy because he was the one who had asked me out. But the other two. . . I'd have to ask Davy to refresh my memory when I saw him later on.

As I was getting ready, brushing my long blonde hair, making up my blue/green eyes, putting blush on my cheeks and picking out my clothes carefully, I wondered why I was going to all this trouble. What was the point in going out on a date (if you could even call it that) when you were two weeks away from being on the streets? Dating should be the last thing on my priority list right now. But I'd already called everyone and researched every resource I could think of, so it wasn't as if I were sitting on my butt, doing nothing about the situation. So why not go out with him? What harm could it do?

Davy was already at the cafe when I arrived. I saw his car before I even got to the parking lot. Somehow I knew it was his before I even saw him sitting in it. Its just one of those things you get a feeling about. WHOA! It was a stunner, a tricked-out custom muscle car of a red GTO with a gold logo on the sides in the shape of a guitar that read 'The Monkees.' What? I had to find out what this was all about.

I found Davy to be every bit as much a gentleman as he had claimed he was. He saw me drive up, jumped out of his car, and opened my car door for me before I could even get my seatbelt off. Inside the cafe, he pulled my chair out for me, then started firing all kinds of questions at me about myself, and saying very little about himself. I found it difficult to look him directly in the eye, as he kept that intense stare going without pause. How long had I lived in California? Did I like it here? What did I do for a living? What did I enjoy doing? Any hobbies? I found it very refreshing from other guys I'd dated that always seemed to be so hung up on themselves that that was all they wanted to talk about.

After answering a whole slew of his questions, I broke in.

"We've talked enough about me. What about you? Tell me about you."

So Davy told me how the four guys lived together in a rented house they called the pad on Beach Blvd. and were a rock and roll band called the Monkees. Well, that explained the car. They called it the Monkeemobile, he explained. It belonged to all of them, each having contributed toward it. Besides their instruments, the car was their most prized possession, he added. So he was a musician and a singer! I, like most other girls, loved musicians. He was sure the group would become famous some day, but for now they were playing at local clubs, and doing gigs whenever they could get them. Getting by, but not really making a lot of money.

"Now. . . I know its none of my business, but I really want to know. . . why did you start crying in the store today?" Davy's dark gaze was so direct, I had the uncomfortable feeling he could see directly into my soul.

"Oh, its nothing to bother you about. Its just that. . . " I can't tell you why, but somehow this young man's apparent sincerity convinced me to tell him what was on my mind, something I would never normally discuss with a near stranger. "Well, my roommate lost her job and couldn't afford the rent anymore, so she moved back home, and I can't afford the place by myself, so I can't stay in my apartment. I've tried everything, but I can't seem to find a roommate to replace her." This all came out in a rush. " Maybe you know of someone looking to share an apartment?" I asked hopefully.

Davy looked thoughtful. "Actually, no. No friends or family you could stay with until you're in a position to get your own place again?"

"No, no friends need a roommate and I have no family left." Now I felt like I sounded as if I were wanting pity. I hated that feeling.

Davy's face became even more intense, if that were possible. He chewed on his bottom lip, a gesture I was to become very familiar with, and stared into space for a few minutes.

"Hey! I'd have to talk to the other guys first, but I'm sure there'd be no problem with your staying at our place!"

"Oh, Davy, please. I don't even know you! And four guys. . . that's scary."

"Oh, we're not the neatest in the world, being bachelors and all, but you could help set us straight!"

"That's not what I mean. I wouldn't feel comfortable living with four guys. But, you don't know how much I appreciate the offer. That was very sweet of you... but I couldn't."

"Its not just an offer-I mean it. I'm 99% sure the others will feel the same."

"Oh, that just wouldn't work."

"Why not?"

"Well. . ." I couldn't think of a legitimate sounding answer.

"Look, just think on it. I'll call you tomorrow if you'll give me your phone number."

I wrote it down for him on a napkin. He also gave me his number.

"Be sure you ask for David if you call."

"I thought the others called you Davy?"

"Well, they do, sometimes, but I prefer to be called David, always have. Davy is just my band name."

"Because you look more like a Davy. The cuteness," I blurted out without even thinking, causing us both to blush.

CHAPTER TWO

When I look back now, and I can just imagine the discussion between them.

"Come on, you guys. She has nowhere to go!"

"David, we have only two bedrooms here, did you forget that? And we're two to a room as it is. Where in hell is she going to sleep?" Mike would argue.

"Do you think for one minute a chick is gonna want to share a bedroom with two guys?" Micky would be incredulous.

"Remember, Mick. She has nowhere to go, and two weeks to get out of her apartment," Davy would remind them solemnly.

There would be a long silence. Everyone would look at Mike, who was a spokesman of sorts for the group.

"Well, if that's the case, you're right, David. We can't turn her away. I think we can all agree on that," Mike would say.

"What does she do for a living?" Micky would ask.

"She's a classifed clerk for the newspaper, takes classified ads."

"Well, at least she's working," Peter would say, and Mike would nod his approval.

"All I can do is run it by her, and hope she accepts." And with that, Davy would have gone to the phone to call me.

"I know this sounds really weird, but Peter has a hammock. He's offering it to you, or the couch if you don't want to sleep in the same room with two guys. We only have 2 bedrooms here." He'd already mentioned that at the restaurant, but I didn't remind him.

"Only two bedrooms? With four guys and a girl? How in the world. . . " I was trying again to talk him out of it. And myself. From the start I really couldn't begin to imagine what that would be like.

"Unless you get a better offer, its better than sleeping in a park or something." Davy played his ace.

"But. . . how do I know I can trust you guys?"

"I vow that if anyone even tries to lay a hand on you, I'll personally make them very sorry. I know these guys, Kerri. We've been a band for nearly two years, and good friends before that. Not one of them would try anything against your will. I give you my word on that."

For some reason, I believed him. I couldn't help it.

"What are the names of the others, again? Besides you and Micky?"

"Mike is the tall one with black hair and a wool hat that he wears most of the time. Peter is the blonde."

"With the cute dimple," I added.

That comment must have bothered Davy a bit, as he paused and then said a bit abruptly, "Yep, that's them. "Peter and Mike."

"Okay, now which bedroom will I be in? Yours and Peter's or Mike's and Micky's?"

"Whatever you want. We can discuss the details after you move in."

Had I completely lost my mind? That night as I lay in bed, I thought about what I was about to do-move in with 4 single guys. Testosterone driven, young, virile guys. And crazy ones that tore around the grocery store at that! No telling what other insane things they did. But not only that, I would be sleeping in the same bedroom with two of them!

I had to repeatedly remind myself that I realistically had no other options. I'd even checked out the homeless shelters around the area, but they were so overfilled that they could only allow a couple of days, and then you were out on the streets again, fighting for survival.

It occured to me that I had not even discussed rent with Davy. He hadn't brought it up, and I had been too distraught and distracted to. Men are not always what they appear. What if the four of them drugged me and then had their way with me? Or told me I could "pay" for rent by being their play thing? Anything was possible. I was taking a big risk, and was very much aware of it.

I saw Davy two or three times a week before the big move date arrived. I was pretty sure he was interested in me. But as a person, or as a female in particular, I wasn't sure. He was forever inquisitive, but some people are just like that. Davy seemed to be a curious person in general. Once I was able to get a grip on being so entranced with him, we began to get comfortable with each other's company.

We spent some time on the beach near where Davy lived, and he took me to see their rental house. It was right on the sand, not 100 feet from the ocean, and had spiral stairs. Fun was my first thought. The inside was a typical bachelor's pad. And that's how the guys always referred to it. The pad. Not much to look at, and some strange looking furniture and decorations, if you wanted to call them that, but functional enough. Davy and Peter shared a room upstairs, and the guys had a habit of sliding down the bannister. They were experts at it-I doubted if I'd ever be able to master it. Micky and Mike's room was downstairs, and there was only one bathroom. Wow, that would be interesting-all of us clamoring for it every morning.

But more than anything, I was just grateful to have a place to stay. These guys had really saved me. All the details could be worked out later. Right now, there were only a few days until the weekend, when the guys would help me move in.

As they hauled the last of the boxes and what little furniture I had up the stairs, (my apartment had been mostly furnished by my roommate) I realized how very strong and durable these guys were. It was obvious to me from the start that the four of them were very fond of each other. They had boundless energy, and didn't seem to mind missing practice for a day to move me in. In fact, they were constantly throwing jokes around and making wise cracks at each other, showing no fatigue after carrying all the boxes up the stairs, and then helping me find places to put things. It made me feel a lot better about imposing on them so much.

One of the first things I noted was how affectionate they were with each other. You don't usually see guys touch often, except for slaps on the back or handshakes, but these guys were not typical. They would regularly do things like haphazardly smack each other on the butt as they passed by, or put their arms around each other's shoulders and give a squeeze, sit close enough to each other that they had actual body contact, and all were accepted as normal. They had no hang-ups, I suppose. Yes, they were an interesting bunch. I was a bit confounded and intrigued at the same time.

That first night was awkward. Peter kept insisting I take his bed, and he'd use the hammock. I felt terrible, but Davy assured me that Peter often slept on the hammock by choice. He considered it a treat, sort of like a young boy enjoying sleeping in a sleeping bag in a tent when camping. I was afraid to sleep downstairs on the couch for some reason. I felt exposed and unsafe if someone were to break in. Peter had the hammock slung between the two beds, so I had to remember not to get out of the wrong side of the bed or I'd be sure to flip poor Peter over. But just having them near made me feel safe and protected. Roughly 600 lbs. of strong young guys in the house assured I slept well at night.

I found myself drawn to Davy and Peter almost right off the bat. How could I help myself? I already knew how charming Davy was from the time I'd spent with him before moving in, but it didn't take more than a day for Peter to start winning my heart too. I couldn't see how anyone could not love Peter. He was nothing if not loveable.

I loved Micky's sense of humor and wackiness. I also loved Mike's quiet, stable wisdom. But Davy and Peter had made me feel like I belonged with them almost from the moment I'd met them. There was a warmth there that drew me to them naturally, and I had already decided, even before all my things had been moved into the pad that I would stay in their bedroom. If they wanted me to.

Nothing had happened between Davy and myself. Not even a kiss. Just several meetings before I moved in with the Monkees. It was all so casual, and even though I was still a bit intimidated by his strikingly good looks, and not sure if I'd ever get used to it, I was slowly getting to the point to where I didn't practically fall over every time I laid eyes on him.

Peter's dimple just about did me in the first time he gave me a really big smile-bigger than the one in the grocery store. I knew I'd have to be very careful around these two, for they both charmed the hell out of me, and that was without even trying. If ever they were to really try. . . oh, a daunting thought.

Davy told me the four of them had had a serious talk before I moved in about no" hanky panky." I was to remain just another roommate and no more. I wasn't sure if that made me happy or disappointed, as Davy was definitely my type, but it was also true that he wasn't showing his cards. He had never even attempted to kiss me, so it was very possible he wasn't interested in me in that way. In any case, he maintained his mysterious ways.

The last thing I wanted to think about right now, however, was a relationship. I wanted to be free to get to know my new roommates, work, and enjoy the beach on the weekends, loving the ocean as I did. This was ideal! Even though I'd only lived half an hour from the beach before, I now had the perfect excuse to go there whenever I wanted-it was right outside my door!

After a while, things got into a rhythm, and I'd dress in the bathroom for bed (nothing provocative or low cut) and in the mornings, we worked out a strict time schedule so everyone could have their time in the bathroom and I could still make it to work on time. Their schedule was more flexible as they had no specific time they had to start practicing or preparing for a gig. We slid right into sync with one another.

I learned quickly that Peter was often an open book. He gave the impression of innocence, but he also possessed a lot of intellect. A very attractive combination. I learned he loved to talk, and like Davy, especially to listen. I found the two of them very much alike except that Davy was more outgoing, confident and charming, whereas Peter was basically shy with an endearing gentleness that lay just beneath the surface, but no less charming. Both were sensitive, respectful, considerate and sweet. Peter was more emotional and more inclined to display it. Davy held on to his air of obscurity and was always discriminating with what he revealed.

The combination of their temperaments made me feel that I was in a safe cocoon when I was with the two of them. Meshed together, the two of them would have been the absolute perfect man for me, I often mused.

We all got along right from the start. I cooked some nights, other nights one of them would cook something simple, and occasionally (if we could afford it) we'd order out. I found myself doing most of the housework, but I didn't pick up after them. I just reminded them when I saw shoes, a jacket, newspapers, or something else out of place, and it would be put back in its rightful place with no grumbling.

Their individual quirks were a never-ending source of joy. Mike's habit of randomly calling one of the others "Shotgun," Peter's habit of blushing way too easily, Davy's favorite expression being, "You must be joking," and Micky saying "gosharoonie," making faces and imitating everything from animals to the other Monkees, to celebrities. There was never a lack of entertainment.

Listening to Mike's Texas drawl when he talked at night on the couch was mildy amusing and somehow comforting. Micky could never sit still for long, so he'd be occupied with something most of the time during our nightly talks. When not occupied, he'd make the most outlandish faces for us. Davy would smile and sit serenely beside me, Peter on the other side, and I'd be treated to some serious mysterious gazes and darling dimples. I felt giddy, being in the center of all this boyish charm. How lucky could a girl get?

The times I was happiest though, was when they played and/or sang for me. I was perfectly content to watch Mike or Peter play the guitar softly, as they often did, mesmorized by the soothing chords. They were much better musicians than I had ever thought they would be. Micky didn't drum at home of course, but he did use the drum sticks on anything and everything he could find, usually the floor or furniture. Davy would take his maracas or tambourine out and show me how they were properly used. I loved their music and was amazed at how talented they were. I'd never seen them or heard them play before as their gigs were usually out of town. So I especially loved it when they invited me to practice.

Mike favored country music, and had the guitar talent and voice for it. Micky was also exceedingly talented, and his voice was so different from Davy's, giving the group diversity. Davy's voice was beautiful and boyish-there was none other like it. Peter sang mostly backup. He had a rich, haunting bass voice, and when he and Davy sang harmony, it nearly melted me.

I begged for them to let me pay rent, which they would have none of, as they argued that I had no bedroom of my own, in fact, had to share it with two guys. "But I eat," I'd say. Their response that would be that I could pay for a fifth of the food bill. When I brought up utilities they insisted that a fifth of the utilities came to almost nothing.

So I took to shopping for all of us and not accepting any money from any of them. I still felt I wasn't contributing enough, though. So I kept the refrigerator well stocked. I'd also bring home little gifts to each of them, depending on what they liked. Peter was easy-candy made him very happy. And he wasn't picky about what kind, although chocolate won him over every time. Davy was not as easy, but I did manage to find out some of his interests in books. Micky was like a little kid-happy with gadgets of any sort. Mike was the most difficult. He did, however, like a good cigar now and then, so I discovered his brand and kept him well supplied. I also made sure ice cream was always in the freezer-their favorite dessert.

I knew I still wasn't paying my fair share, even though they ate like typical young guys, so I also took the Monkeemobile out for a weekly wash before Davy had a chance to wash it himself as had been the custom before I came along. I did everything I could think of to help out, but the fact of the matter was, they truly seemed content to just have me there.

And Davy was right-no one came on to me. But I don't think it was from anything Davy specifically had said to them. They were just a really nice foursome who just wouldn't dream of trying to take advantage. I had really lucked out.

Sometimes though. . . things have a way of happening on their own, and if you try to control them, you can only fool yourself for so long. . .

CHAPTER THREE

As summer warmed up on the beach, as I walked for long distances in the sand, dove into the crests of waves, dreamed as only a young woman does, I did a lot of thinking and reflecting. I sat on the bottom of the stairs and looked out at the sea nearly every evening. The serenity of it soothed my tired body and restless yearnings. I believe those were among the happiest moments of my life.

It was one of those warm evenings sitting on the bottom of the stairs that Davy silently slipped down to sit beside me. He moved like a cat, or maybe an Indian. It was a habit of his. Silence. He was just suddenly where he hadn't been moments before. Those dark, mysterious, liquid eyes of his caught me off guard this time. Their sparkle was almost always present, and they cast their spell this evening when I happened not to be braced for it. An unguarded moment.

"Talk a walk on the beach with me, yeah?" His English way of expressing himself warmed my insides.

How could I turn him down? His handsomeness just melted my resistance. The majority of the beach-goers had left. It was close to dinner time and they still had to drive home to wherever they lived and start dinner. So we were, for the most part, alone. I wore my bikini with a cover up over it, and Davy wore only swim trunks. It was still at least an hour from sundown and the waves gently lapped the sand, preparing patiently for the tide to come in.

"Time will stop for you and I," said Davy. I looked at him and he was smiling. "Its some lyrics I'm writing for a new song," he explained.

The atmosphere was charged. I knew there was something different afoot but couldn't put a name to it. I was starting to get accustomed to his dark good looks; I no longer nearly gasped when he appeared, but I was still caught unaware on occasion, and I knew I'd never be immune, and even though I'd lived with this guy for two months now, he still had the power to tangle me up in intricate knots with only a gesture or smile. I could just sit and watch him for hours and be content.

I was helpless, and I knew it. At least I recognized it. Davy was swooping in, but not as a predator would. More like an gentle, but very insistent, breeze. Something that just ruffles your hair at first, but eventually becomes a windstorm that sweeps you away. I have to admit I never saw it coming, except after it was already too late. And then what does one do?

We had walked for the better part of a mile when he stopped in his tracks. There was that look of his again. That intensity that you couldn't escape from. Every time I looked away or tried to distract him, he remained fixed, those eyes boring holes into me. If only I'd had some kind of warning, I might have had a fighting chance. But Davy was insidious, I suppose because he'd had so much practice. With his looks, his short stature made little, if any, difference. No doubt there had been many, many girls, and he'd had plenty of opportunity to perfect his style. Had each of them fallen victim? In a way, that's how it felt. It wasn't fair-I hadn't a chance in hell of getting out of this unchanged.

The salt smell of the ocean, the feel of the sand under my bare feet and the lonely call of the sea birds were drugging me. So was Davy's smile. He took my hand naturally in his as if he'd done it a hundred times, although this was the first. It felt natural and good. His grip was secure, yet yielding, as if he were latching the gate temporarily, but not locking it. He was making it clear I could back away at any point. I knew that. But I believe I was way past the point of denying my feelings to myself any longer-the feelings I'd been repressing. I could no more back away than I could stop breathing. He had me in his clutches and I sure hoped he knew what he was getting himself into. For there was the matter of Peter. . .

Frankly, I was proud of myself. I'd been so careful, treaded so delicately around the two of them, trying not to form any particular attachments so as not to mar the harmony in our lives. I wanted to be autonomous at least in the beginning, and find love naturally, in due time, on my own. Preferably, not with one of the Monkees. They were my friends. Very dear friends. It was much like a dance. Staying just close enough to enjoy and share, yet just far enough away so as not to upset the balance, the dynamics of our living situation.

As time had gone on, I'd found I could trust both David and Peter beyond any boundary. They both treated me as if I were royalty and must be worshipped, even though I constantly reminded them I was perfectly capable of getting my own glass of ice tea or extra blanket. Neither one had done a single thing out of line, and I got the distinct feeling they were both trying hard not to complicate or jeopardize things with any hint of other intentions. They were so much alike-yet so different. They respected each other, because after all, their first loyalty was to each other. Neither would ever dream of enroaching on another's object of affection. To that they felt bound. But they were also men. Young men with a lot of life yet to experience, but men just the same. And men had desires and and yearnings that weren't always easy for them to manage.

I had taken notice of Peter eyeing me surreptiously lately. Out of necessity, a woman when young, quickly learns to be intuitive about men. Its one of the first lessons she learns in life. That intuition is usually highly accurate. I wasn't at all sure though, if Peter had a romantic interest or if he just enjoyed being with me. But I did have my suspicions. And to add to the problem, I was liking Peter maybe a little bit too much.

Just as they were just men, I was just a woman. I was vulnerable, although not completely innocent. I'd had a few lovers, but they had been typical young men with a good measure of selfishness-nothing that would compare to the uniqueness and integrity of David and Peter. I had nothing but admiration for the entire group. Each and every one was special, but most importantly, they each knew how to act around a lady, how to respect her.

So when Davy moved ever closer to me as we stood on the sand with the waves licking at our feet, I was so aghast at what was occurring that I felt almost disassocated. But I was slapped back to reality in an instant when he leaned in and took me into his arms. This was really happening.

"Tell me," he whispered in my ear. "tell me if you don't want me to kiss you."

My mouth opened, but I could find no words. Tell him not to kiss me? With this man, that would asking nearly the impossible. So I didn't even try. I said nothing, and stood there like a block of cement, not knowing if I should hug him back or run away.

But I knew, even as I thought it, that I wouldn't be able to walk away. I'd been repressing my desire for him for the last two months. More than that, really, if you counted the two weeks before I'd moved in with the band. And he was so my type.

He took my silence as consent, so against my better judgement, I let him kiss me. He barely brushed my lips with his the first time. The second one lasted maybe an entire three seconds. Mouth just slightly open, no tongue. Respect. I never expected any less from Davy.

He pulled my hair back from my neck and nuzzled. I thought my knees would give out at any second. Just as quickly as it had begun, it stopped.

"I shouldn't have done that. We had an agreement-me and the others. No hanky panky."

"I remember."

"Is a kiss considered hanky panky?" he asked, and I saw the smile in his eyes before it hit his lips.

"I'm not really sure."

I wanted to tell him I'd been fighting strange longings for him the entire time I'd known him, but reason told me it would not be a wise thing to do. I also thought about Peter, and how I'd been feeling strangely drawn to him, but that would really be pushing the envelope, considering what had just happened. There was more than enough for both of us to think about right now without complicating things further by mentioning my attraction to Peter. That bridge would have to be crossed later.

I had to give Davy lots of credit because he didn't try to kiss me again after that. I thought for sure he'd stop again for another one on our way back, but he seemed deep in thought, and even though we held hands most of the way, he let go before we became visible from the pad.

Now Peter. . . he was another story altogether.

Whereas my overwhelming attraction to Davy was immediate, with Peter. . . he was like a drug that seeped slowly into my veins. Very quietly and unobtrusively, he spread through my system so gradually that the power of it caught me unaware. And that was exactly where the danger lay. Jaws of steel, that drug had, and once caught in its grip, Lord help me.

I had a bad migraine headache now and then, and this one was a doozy. I laid on the couch and was in so much pain that I couldn't even keep water down, much less food. The right side of my head throbbed so much that I was deathly afraid of moving a single inch in any direction for fear the pain might escalate.

No one was home except Peter. It was hot-Peter turned the air conditioning on for me. I was groaning feebly-Peter got a cool washcloth and put it on my forehead, rinsing it in cold water and replacing it every time it got warm, which was about every 15 minutes. Every time I dared open my eyes for even a second, there sat Peter, directly in front of me, sitting Indian style, concentration making worry lines in his forehead, watching and waiting for any request from me. Once I could have sworn I felt his cool lips brush my temple, but it could have been a dream, as I was drifting in and out of fitful sleep.

The headache lasted about five hours. Micky came home and began drumming on the floor as usual, and Peter, with a quiet "Cool it" thrown in Micky's direction, picked me up in his arms and carried me up the stairs and set me down on the bed oh-so-gently so I wouldn't be exposed to the noise. Then he turned out the light and stayed by my side until I was able to move around a bit on the bed and talk again.

I could not have asked for a more diligent nurse. He brought me some dry crackers and 7-up to "settle my stomach" and a little later, when I held that down, he brought up some tea with a bit of milk. A little later, some chicken soup. Nothing had tasted better in my entire life. I came back to life a bit weak, but finally pain free. He covered me with a blanket when I became cold, as I always did after a migraine, then, with the help of the nightlight, began to gently brush my hair, as it had become tangled from my writhing on the couch. That was when I sensed that there was more to the matter than worry. Peter would have taken care of any of the others if they had headaches, but the tenderness that he included in my care smacked of something that went a bit deeper, and also fear. Fear that something might be seriously wrong with me.

I assured him I was fine, and would be right as rain by morning, but I felt his eyes on me from his perch on the hammock every time I woke up for the rest of the night.

"You really gave me a scare yesterday," he said the next morning, a Sunday.

"It happens-I think its hormones. Lots of people get migraines."

"I never knew they could be that bad. I'm sure glad its over. I'd hate to have something happen to you." He touched me briefly. His hand lingered just a couple of seconds too long on my back.

Reading Peter's face was as easy as it was difficult to read Davy's. He wore his heart on his sleeve, and a more sensitive individual I had never met. Sweet might have been the best word to describe Peter, but in reality, he was beyond sweet.

The day I sat on the stairs watching the sunset with Davy playing frisbee with Mike and Micky nearby, and Peter started to brush my hair from behind, as he sat on the next step up, I began wondering about what he might be feeling. I wasn't quite sure what to do, or how to react, so I just allowed it. Brushing someone's hair can be a strangely intimate act.

Peter was still at it when Davy came over to sit down for a few minutes, unable to keep up with Micky's endless supply of energy. Peter didn't stop, either. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Davy observing Peter brushing my hair, and waited to see what would be said. Nothing. Davy watched with interest, but his attitude didn't change and his face didn't reveal a thing.

To my surprise, a little later, Peter switched over to brushing Davy's hair. These two guys were fascinating and surprises were never in short supply. Davy acted as if nothing unusual were happening in the least. I got the feeling this had happened before, likely more than once. After a short while, they both went back out and played more frisbee with Micky as Mike collapsed in the sand, Micky finally having drained the last of his energy resources.

The guys went out on dates, and every time Davy went, I felt a pang in my chest. I knew I had no right to him. We were just roommates who had happened to share a couple of pretty chaste kisses and held hands on the beach. He owed me nothing.

Peter, on the other hand, didn't go out much at all. He would occasionally with the guys, but rarely with girls. The guys had often made comments about how shy Peter was, and I realized they hadn't exaggerated. Peter could talk to women easily enough if they took the lead, although it was still difficult for him, but to approach a female on his own was almost impossible for him.

I never went out at all. I was perfectly content to spend my time reading or on the beach on the weekends. And I also found both Davy and Peter showing up at odd times when I was alone. It rarely happened with Micky or Mike, so I quickly began to surmise Peter and Davy were doing it purposely. And I was almost certain neither of them knew what the other was doing. Or what their intents were; neither did I, for that matter.

Davy would act very casual and cool, then sidle up to me and start turning on the charm. Being as observant as he was, he knew what to say and do, and he was always ready with a joke or a funny story to keep me laughing. I was a sucker for it. He also stood very close to me when he did this. Inside my personal space really, but I couldn't bring myself to back away. I loved his closeness. I did vaguely sometimes feel he was testing me.

Davy also easily slipped into the serious role, and that was when I knew I'd better be cautious. When he became serious, it usually meant he needed to talk about something important or he was going to move in to attempt to kiss me.

Peter however, had no strategy. Being so bashful, he'd often just fall into step beside me on the sand, saying nothing, and I would have to start a conversation. He simply left it up to me. Once I'd started to chat, he'd be able to talk to me fairly easily, but I always had to make the first move. I sensed Peter would probably never muster the courage to kiss me on his own, and that if I wanted to experience it, I'd have to be the aggressor.

As time went on, I wanted to kiss Peter. And as even more time went by, I felt a need to kiss Peter. I did feel just a bit of guilt, even though Davy and I had no commitment, and he was, in fact, going out with other girls, and had never shown any kind of affectionate gesture toward me in front of the others or at any time other than at the beach, well away from the pad. I reminded myself that Peter lived with us, the girls Davy went out with didn't. A bit of a sting of guilt there on my part.

Still, I really wasn't supposed to be getting involved with any of them if I were to follow the no panky panky rule. If I were to be concerned with minute details, Davy had said the guys had talked about no hanky panky amongst themselves-no one had directly voiced the same to me. So, technically, this meant I could flirt with Peter, and neither of us would be breaking the rule, as I would be the enterpriser.

CHAPTER FOUR

But as much as I wanted to get closer to Peter, I also knew that if I did, I'd be playing with fire. Until I found out how Davy truly felt about me, I really didn't feel comfortable with the idea. While I was not commited to anyone, I didn't want to play around with anyone's feelings.

"David," I said as we walked in the sand in our usual direction one day. "What is going on?"

"Going on? With what?"

I felt the color flow into my cheeks, flushing them hot and red. "Why do we keep ending up walking on the beach like this?"

"Is there anything wrong with that?"

He was being evasive and that frustrated me. Couldn't he help me out just a little? I was positive he knew what I was referring to.

"Do you mean when I stop and kiss you?" Ah, so he was going to acknowledge the subject after all.

"Yes... I'm confused."

"I like kissing you. I like it the way we've been doing, but I'd like to work up to something a little better."

Now that caught my attention. I didn't know what to say-there was nothing that came to mind in that instant.

"Something more. . . like this, maybe?" he was closing in again.

He was very near, so near his breath was soft on my cheek. I felt his hands on my waist. I saw him move a hint of a bit closer, until our bodies were almost touching, and I closed my eyes, afraid to face the moment or look at his beautiful face. He was always like a living dream to me, no matter how much time I spent with him. Now our bodies were touching, from the chest and all the way down. Just the whisper of a touch, nothing obvious.

Then his lips were on mine. At first he placed the gentlest and most innocent of kisses on my lips, and when I didn't object, he started to urge a response out of me. He was right, he was working his way up. His mouth was very slowly starting to quest a better, more favorable reaction from me, his lips parting slightly. My god, they were soft! They felt just like they looked. And wet.

I was very unsure of myself, and felt strangely wooden, so I didn't respond much at all.

"If you don't want this. . . . I'll stop," he whispered against my lips.

"Oh no. . . don't stop."

That was all Davy needed to hear. He pulled me closer so that now we had definite body contact and he deepened the kiss considerably. For a while there, I'd really began to wonder if he always kissed so simply and briefly. He quickly dispelled that idea. His lips were now insistently moving over mine, encouraging me to open my mouth. I did-very slightly. He made a slight noise then, apparently approving of my response, and suddenly, I didn't know where my mouth ended and his began. It was very intimate, but at once very sweet and slow. He acted as if he had hours, and wanted hours to kiss me. There was no french kissing that time, but I knew, from his earlier words, that he was building up to more than what we'd shared today. Desire made me dizzy.

We walked back to the pad as if we were both in a stupor, practically stumbling in the sand as if we'd been drinking too much.

"Too much of that sort of kissing, and I don't trust myself," he said as we climbed the stairs.

We sat on the couch, and he lowered his head, in a rare moment where he didn't look into my eyes as we conversed.

"Its been a while," he said, as way of explanation. I didn't pretend I didn't know what he was referring to.

"Me too," I said simply.

He nodded, knowing I hadn't been out with anyone in the 3 months I'd lived in the pad.

"Then let's go upstairs and talk," was his suggestion.

I had no reservations about this. I knew Davy too well by now to be worried about him trying anything. He'd had plenty of chances and had proved himself a gentleman.

He laid on Peter's bed, propped up on an elbow and facing me, on my bed. He adjusted Peter's hammock so we had a clear view of each other. Davy played and fiddled with his love beads, a habit of sorts with him.

"I'm going to want to keep kissing you; I guess I'm warning you."

"And are you going to want more than that?" I looked away again-the subject was too intense for my nerves and his steady gaze.

"Oh, I won't lie-yes, I want more than that. But. . . I sense you're not ready for anything more."

Astute, he was! And completely correct. I wasn't ready for two reasons. One, I was a very slow mover when it came to romance, and didn't take it lightly. And more important was number two-I was attracted to Peter. But I couldn't tell him that part. I wasn't ready to. Aside from the fact that nothing, absolutely nothing had happened between myself and Peter. Now, if there was a possibility both of them were interested in me romantically. . . how could I possibly know which of them I preferred? There was only one way to find out . . . kiss Peter. My blood ran hot just from the thought of it.

The opportunity presented itself sooner than I expected. I continued my walks on the beach, never knowing who might show up to walk with me, Davy or Peter. It was very random, and they seemed to materialize out of nowhere. Sometimes neither one showed up, sometimes both did, and when this happened, one usually would discreetly fade into the background, presumably not wanting to intrude. Other times, both would walk with me, but of course, Davy wouldn't try to kiss me, and I knew Peter was too shy to, whether we were alone or not. So we would just stroll and talk-the three of us. I cherished those times.

One Saturday I was alone in the pad, which was a fairly rare occurance, and having it all to myself, I remembered my wine coolers I'd had in in the refrigerator for a couple of weeks, and thought this would be the perfect time to have one, or two, or three. . . however many I felt like having. I felt free and easy, looking forward to some alone time.

I sat on the couch, my feet propped up on the coffee table, reading a good book, sipping a cold melon wine cooler, the taste crisp and fresh on my tongue, and feeling very content with my world. It was early afternoon. I'd cleaned the pad that morning, and had nothing important to do, and nowhere I had to go. I had the rest of the day to do as I pleased. Didn't even have to worry about dinner, as Saturday night it was "everyone for themself." That usually meant ordering pizza. The first cooler made me feel a bit mellow, as I wasn't accustomed to drinking much alcohol. After the second one, I was feeling better than mellow-in fact, I felt very good. I realized I was getting a little buzzed.

I was contemplating getting a third cooler out of the refrigerator when the front door opened. My first thought was Micky. I could just imagine him doing somersaults or cartwheels on the living room floor to entertain me. That would be a bit too much for my laid back state of mind. Mike would probably want to have a philosophical talk, which was alright and downright interesting most of the time, but I just wasn't in the mood today. Davy would be dangerous right now, as the wine coolers had loosened me up considerably, and I didn't want to be within a mile of Davy in that state. He made me feel like losing control even without drinking.

For some reason, the last one I expected was Peter. I thought I remembered him saying he'd be busy helping a friend work on their car, and I had supposed it would take all day.

I looked up to see a puzzled Peter, who was busy taking in the two empty wine cooler bottles in front of me on the coffee table.

"Peter, hi! Want to join me in having a wine cooler?"

He gifted me with one of his dimpled smiles. "Um. . . I think I'll stick with beer." Peter went to the fridge and got a cold one, his favorite alcoholic beverage. Without asking, he also grabbed me another cooler. He popped the top on his beer and unscrewed the cap on mine, setting it down on the coffee table in front of me, then just stood there holding his beer, avoiding my gaze. He went for his guitar next. If in doubt, go for guitar-his seeming default.

"Think I'll play on the bottom of the stairs." I could tell he was a bit thrown off to see me at home all alone, and drinking wine coolers. It think it was a bit of overload for him, and probably scary too. He was heading for the door.

"Play it here! I love to hear you play. That is, unless you want to be alone."

I could tell he wanted to stay, but was very uneasy and didn't know quite what to do. Seeing no gracious escape from my nearness, he sat down on the couch beside me and began to softly strum. I sat back, closed my eyes, sipped on my third cooler, and let his music flow over me and through me, like a soothing balm over sun baked skin. He played so sensually.

I opened my eyes and observed his long fingers, that always reminded me of an orchestra leader's fingers, expertly move over the strings, and something started to stir within me. Uh-oh. Those strange yearnings were coming to life, curling around inside me, warming me along with the wine coolers' help. But. . . I had to admit this was perfect-it couldn't have unfolded more to my liking. If I'd written the script, I couldn't have done a better job.

Hardly realizing what I was doing, as if in a dream, I lifted my hand slowly and touched his hair, fighting back the shyness which was stubbornly persistent, despite the alcohol in my system. I'd been wanting to do this for god knows who knows how long, and his hair was as soft as silk, just as I'd somehow known it would be. I was hoping it would feel coarse, and therefore be off-putting, to cool my ardor, but no. . . silky and golden, and sliding through my fingers like shimmering gold as I brushed it back out of his eyes. But then I couldn't seem to pull my hand back. I started playing with the rest of it, burying my hand in it, unable to stop.

Peter continued to play, although I could tell his attention was riveted on my hand in his hair. He was embarrassed, as usual, and didn't want me to know. He was probably also wondering why in the world I was doing that, as I never had before.

If only I had the nerve to tell him that it wasn't the buzz from the wine coolers causing my behavior. It was how I truly wanted to be with him, but I was afraid of rejection, and bashful too. The wine coolers, however, were affecting me to some degree, causing me to be more bold than I normally would ever be.

I had always let the man make the first move. I couldn't remember a time I had ever been the aggressor in the beginning of a relationship. Well. . . this wasn't a relationship, but rather, an experiment to see how Peter responded to me. If not for the wine coolers, I doubted I would have touched him, even though I ached to. I was pretty sure he had feelings for me, but I also knew nothing would ever come of it if I didn't do something. I needed to find out if he would make me feel the way Davy did.

"Peter?"

"Yeah?" He wouldn't look at me.

"Does it bother you if I touch your hair like this?"

"No. . . "

Boy, he was seriously uptight.

"I think you need a few more beers so you can get caught up with me," I said lightly, and went to get him another from the fridge, as he had stopped playing long enough to take a huge gulp of the one he had, and it was over half empty already. False courage. Oh well, I figured he needed it. At least for the first time.

I can't describe how I felt. Desire ran in me so hot, and I tingled. . . not from the coolers, but solely from Peter's presence. I'd felt it many times before when I'd been around Peter, but today it was greatly magnified.

I was also deathly afraid one of the other Monkees would come bursting in the door at any second.

"Where are the others?" I asked.

"Not sure. Don't know what they had planned today."

That wasn't good-no good at all. With there being three others, any one of them could come home at any time. I didn't like the odds. I wanted to be alone with Peter, and I wanted that privacy to be guaranteed. The only way to do that, I figured, was to take him upstairs to the bedroom and lock the door. But what would he think if I did that? He'd probably pee his pants if I even tried. I only wanted to kiss him, to feel him close to me, but it was likely he would get the wrong idea if I suggested the aforementioned. And then he'd really clam up.

I'd bring it up about going to the bedroom if I got the nerve, and if I could make it sound casual enough, but I realized it would probably take another wine cooler to get to that point, if I could even do it then. So I concentrated on finishing the third cooler as Peter eagerly took the second beer from me, taking a huge slug of it, evidently intent on catching a buzz himself so he could better deal with what was developing here.

When he finished it, in only about 15 minutes, I brought him a third, as I had very little left in my bottle. By now I definitely had a buzz, but not to the point of being tipsy. I didn't want to get to that point. I just needed a little boost for courage.

Every minute counted, as someone could show up at any time, or it could be hours before anyone came home. I wasn't taking chances, though. As soon as the third beer was gone, Peter turned to me, amber eyes clear as if he were completely sober, although he had to feel something after chugging three beers that quickly. It had been only a bit over half an hour since he'd walked through the door.

"Did you like having your hair brushed the other day?" he asked, and I could tell it took a lot out of him to utter those words.

"Loved it. I was surprised when you brushed David's hair too, though."

He smiled. "Oh, its just something we do."

I wondered if he had been brushing my hair with the same casual attitude he brushed Davy's hair. I sure hoped not.

"What were you thinking when you brushed my hair?" I was fishing for some sort of confirmation about how he felt.

"That it was soft."

A man of few words. Well, not really, not normally. But certainly when he was nervous around a woman.

I took a deep breath and actually took the plunge. I could scarcely believe the words were coming from my mouth. But I was immensely proud of myself too.

"I'd like to talk to you privately, and I'm afraid someone will come home. Can we go upstairs?"

If Peter's face was easy to read normally, it was blatantly easy now. I saw panic, confusion and something else that I couldn't name, cross his face all at the same time. Could it be desire?

"Sure... but anyone could walk in there too." I knew he was going to say that. "Unless we lock the door," he added. Bingo . . . he'd saved me from having to say it myself.

"Good idea," I said brightly, as if the thought hadn't occurred to me.

CHAPTER FIVE

On a sudden impulse, I grabbed his hand as we reached the foot of the stairs. He hesitated for a fraction of a second, then took it and we ascended.

As soon as the door closed, Peter locked it. There. . . that was out of the way, no one could bother us now. Of course, if someone did come home and try to come in, it would require some serious explaining, but I'd worry about that later. No sense in worrying about it until there was something to worry about.

I sat down on my bed, formerly Peter's bed, and patted the mattress beside me, shocking myself at my boldness. He came over and sat down beside me.

"I thought you were supposed to help a friend work on his car today?" I said to try to break the ice.

"Oh, I went over there, and he wasn't home. Neither was the car, so I suppose he got it running."

"That explains why there's no grease all over you."

"Yeah."

Boy, this was going to be no easy task. Peter just sat there, stiff as a board, unmoving. I think he was paralyzed with fear. I had to loosen him up somehow, but not a single idea came to mind. Hopefully the beer would start to relax him soon.

"What did you want to talk to me about?" I jerked out of my ponderings, realizing I'd used wanting to talk to him as an excuse to get him in the bedroom, and now I couldn't think of a thing. So I decided to just be honest.

"I just wanted to spend some time alone with you. We never really get to, except for our walks on the beach. I thought it would be nice to talk. . .just the two of us."

He smiled then, flipped his head back as was his endearing habit to get the hair out of his eyes and said, "So. . . what do you want to talk about?"

"Your eyes. . . they change from amber to brown to green. They're brown when the lighting is low or you're in a serious mood. They're green when the lighting is better, or you're having fun. But most of the time they're amber." I was making conversaton, hoping he'd let down a bit.

"What color are they now?"

"Brown. I like it too."

Peter got up, went over to the shades and lowered them, dimming the light considerably in the room. "There. Now hopefully they'll stay brown." I was mildly shocked.

"I think maybe they're brown because you're serious?" I was teasing him gently, and it seemed to be working.

"Yes, I'm serious."

"About what?"

"Enjoying my time with you." There was that sweetness again that Peter seemed to possess a never ending supply of.

Somewhere in that time frame, the wine coolers started to kick in. I felt light as a feather, giddy, and very, very amorous. I studied Peter's eyes, straining to see if he was feeling anything close to the same as I was. It was impossible to tell. Aside from being more relaxed than he'd ever been when alone with me, he appeared sober, but then, I wasn't exactly in the best position to judge how buzzed anyone else was. I was very glad right then that I had not had any more alcohol, because just one more probably would have pushed me over into drunkenness. And that wouldn't have been becoming.

Peter was no longer sitting stiffly and unyielding. He was reclining back on the bed, propped up by his elbows. I was certain he wouldn't have done that if he weren't at least a little buzzed. So I reclined too, only I laid on my side, facing him, resting on one elbow.

"Kerri?"

"Yes?" I'd been fading out a bit, thinking of doing all kinds of fun things with Peter-some sexual, some not. I felt self conscious when he said my name, pulling me out of my daydreams as if he had been able to read my thoughts.

"Do you and David have something going?"

Oh god, where did that come from? That was probably the one question I least expected to hear, and therefore I was totally unprepared for it. So I said the first thing that popped into my mind.

"No, of course not. Why would you think that?"

"Because you've been walking on the beach with him pretty regularly."

"I walk on the beach with you too," was my reply.

Peter blushed, sputtered for a moment, but managed to spit out what he wanted to say anyway. "I saw. . . you kiss him."

Uh-oh. This was subject matter I had not expected to come up at all. Peter was throwing curve balls at me. I should have thought about this before. I should have known that it was possible one of the other three could have seen us. I mentally kicked myself. This was turning into a drag really fast.

"Well, that doesn't necessarily mean anything, does it?"

"It means you must be more than friends."

He had a point there. And one I didn't know how to address.

"Let's just say we were both curious. He's dating though, you know that."

"Yeah. I just wondered about it."

I grabbed this opportunity like a shark. Might as well take advantage of it. "Well, it would be the same as, for example, you and me kissing. Wouldn't have to mean anything-just something we wanted to experience." I waited with much interest to see what he might say to that.

He wrinkled his forehead as if he were trying to envision it.

"Yeah, I guess so. But. . . tell me. . . you don't have to answer, and sorry if I'm prying. . . but, did you like it when David kissed you?"

He'd done it again, unbalanced me. Another question I hadn't anticipated.

"Peter. . . it was not a . . . lover type of kiss." I carefully left out any mention of the two other kisses Davy and I had shared. Unless he brought up seeing it happen more than once, I wasn't about to volunteer the information.

"But still. . . did you like it?"

How was I going to answer this without spoiling the mood? I also had to be careful how I worded my answer on the unlikely chance that Peter might repeat the conversation to Davy. I certainly wasn't going to lie and say I didn't like it. But I was also afraid that if Peter felt I had liked kissing Davy too much, he might shut down on me.

I decided to tell the truth, albeit watered down a bit.

"Yes, it was pleasant. I can't say much more, as, like I said, it wasn't like anything serious."

Peter seemed to accept my explanation. We were silent for a short while, then he caught me off guard yet again.

"I was hoping you'd say you didn't expecially care for it."

I tried not to let him see any reaction. "Well, it wasn't unpleasant-I won't lie to you."

"Why did you kiss him first?" I didn't understand what he meant at first, then realized he meant why did I end up kissing Davy, and not Peter, while walking on the beach.

"Well, I suppose because he made the move on me."

"That's Davy. Always gets the girls."

"Well, its true that I got the impression he's been in that situation many times before. Practice makes perfect, I suppose. But I find shyness very attractive too." I couldn't believe I'd just said that. Unless he was really clueless, Peter would realize I was talking about him.

"You do?"

"Yes. . . for instance, I find your shyness. . . captivating." There, I'd said it. If Peter didn't get a hint that strong, I might as well give it up right then. I also realized in the next few seconds that this meant I'd now have the responsibility of getting the ball rolling. If he thought I liked his shyness, he would probably remain shy, hoping I'd take over. I really didn't know if I had the audacity it would require to take the lead. But I knew one thing-the wine coolers were going a long way toward helping me reach that goal.

I committed myself then. I reminded myself that this might be my only chance to let Peter know I felt something for him. I gave myself a rough mental shove, boosted my courage and staunchily drove onward. It felt too brazen, but I couldn't stop now.

"Peter, you're so sweet." They were the first words that came naturally from my mouth. Mainly because it was so true. I scooted over to close the foot of space between us and touched his face. The beard stubble that was already beginning there since this morning's shave was rough and masculine.

He turned his head toward me and I knew what I needed to do. I had to, or I knew it wouldn't happen. I closed my eyes and leaned into him, our torsos now in contact. Eyes still closed, as I held the opposite side of his face in my hand, I estimated where his lips were and went in for the kill.

My aim was right on target. His lips were closed, but within seconds they parted so naturally. Nothing artifical. Earthy. My lips parted as well. The first thing I noticed was that the kiss was so different from the first one I'd shared with David that it shook me to the core.

Peter took his weight off his elbow in order to put his hand on the back of my neck, which put us both flat down on the bed. My arm went under his neck and ended up on his upper back, while my other hand remained on his cheek.

His kiss could not have been any more different than Davy's. It took only seconds for me to realize the kind of passion this man was capable of. He didn't immediately start plunging with his tongue or groping me like so many guys in the past had, but he didn't need to. The passion was so palpable that it amazed me that a man who was so bashful with women could respond so eagerly. In a word, iit was thrilling.

Peter was shaking, clearly nervous, but we didn't stop kissing. Neither one of us would let go, so we ended up molded closely together, kissing as if the end of the world would come at any moment. The taste of the alcohol both of us had consumed made it even headier than it already was. Before a couple of minutes had elapsed, we were voraciously going at it, and Peter was easily heads and shoulders above the best kisser I'd ever had. His kisses were deep and thorough, and his lips moved expertly.

A hazy thought crossed my mind just then. It was always the quiet ones. . . Now I understood. The ones you least expect. . . I guessed it really was true.

Peter's breathing came heavy, fast and rough. Our mouths open, our tongues rubbing, Peter was groaning out loud. Not the little noises Davy had made, but almost animal-like sounds of need and desire. I couldn't remember ever being this sexually excited. We seemed to kiss forever, and I was terrified of it coming to an end. . . and then it did.

Peter tore himself loose from me, a look of startled astonishment on his face.

"Kerri. . . " he stopped to try to catch his breath. "I'm sorry! I didn't mean to be so forward."

I was busy trying to catch my breath as well, but when I was able to form words, I panted, "Peter, oh my god, Peter. You didn't do anything wrong. And your kisses... Oh my god... I didn't know you had it in you!"

"You mean, I wasn't too pushy?"

"No! Oh my god. . ."

Peter looked so relieved. I'm sure he'd thought that he had offended me. He should have known though, from my reaction, that he was doing everything right.

I cuddled right up to him again, and this time, I didn't have to do a thing. He took the reins. He found my lips and started ravishing them again. It felt as if he were making love to my mouth. I was intoxicated-not by the wine coolers, but by Peter's mouth.

As if from a distance, an unwelcome sound came from the misty fog of my lust. A knocking on the bedroom door. Peter broke away. "Oh boy," he whispered.

I struggled to gain traction back on earth after being in paradise, and at the same time silently cursed vehemently whoever was at the door. Damn it, go away!

"Now what do we do?" I whispered back.

"I dunno, but I think we're busted."

"That was an understatement, Peter."

I'll be right out!" I called out. "Let me get dressed."

Immediately I realized I'd said the worst possible thing. In trying to stall the intruder and buy myself a few minutes to compose myself, of all things, of all things, I'd had to say that.

Peter's look told me without doubt that he agreed.

CHAPTER SIX

"We'll just have to go out there together," I told Peter. "Face up to it. Otherwise, whoever it is will see you when you go downstairs anyway. . . eventually."

"Yeah, I'll starve if I stay up here indefinitely." Peter cracked me up, but I was too scared to even be able to muster a smile.

Already being fully dressed, we just quickly combed our hair and unlocked the door, descending the stairs to discover who had come to our door. I held my breath.

I was so relieved to see Mike sitting on the couch that I nearly hugged him. I was so afraid it would be David. Peter cleared his throat. Mike's look was shooting daggers at both of us.

"Peter, why don't you go to the beach, or take a drive or something?" suggested Mike.

"I'd like to stay. I'm just as responsible for this as Kerri."

"Well, I want to talk to Kerri alone about this." Mike's voice left no room for argument, so Peter disappeared, looking back at me as he closed the front door.

"Come to Papa Nez," Mike said gently, indicating the couch beside him. I sat down.

"Michael, its not what it looks like."

"Its not? Okay then, tell me how you would have seen it if you were me. I see three empty beer bottles and three empty wine cooler bottles on the coffee table, and you and Peter are upstairs in the bedroom? With the door locked?"

I hadn't realized he'd tried the door knob. As if to explain, he said, "I thought something might be wrong. I mean, how often does something like this happen? Thought you might have had too much to drink and were sick, but when I found the door was locked, after I knocked, mind you, since I don't bust into a lady's bedroom, it wasn't hard to figure out. Peter's car was the only one here. Not only that, but it was Peter's brand of beer," he added, as if he needed more than the substantial amount of evidence he already had.

"I admit I was drinking wine coolers, and getting buzzed, and Peter came home and had a few beers," I said lamely.

"And you guys ended up in the bedroom. . . "

"Nothing happened, Michael. I swear it didn't. You can ask Peter yourself. We only kissed. We were both buzzed and it just happened."

"But with the door locked? That seems to imply you were planning more than a kiss or two."

"Honestly, Mike. We weren't going to do anything more than kiss. We just wanted privacy. It wasn't Peter's fault, either. I'm the one who suggested we go upstairs."

Michael's eyebrows raised. "Gotta say that's something I never would have guessed. I know Peter's shy, but I thought you were too."

"I am, normally, but like I said, I was buzzed."

"Well, I admit you came out of there too fast for having to get dressed. But I can't tell you how shocked I was that it was Peter-I expected David, until I noticed the empty bottles were Peter's brand after I came back down here. Then you better believe I was blown away. "

"Why did you expect Davy?"

"You kissing him on the beach." Obviously Davy and I had been seen by more people than I realized. And the wrong people, too. It had been pretty dumb to be kissing him on the beach, now that I thought about it. Another case of 'caught up in the moment and throwing caution to the wind,' I thought to myself.

"So you're seeing both of them?"

"I have done nothing more than kiss Davy-haven't even been on a date with him, and the same for Peter. I'm attracted to both, and was curious to see which I preferred. That's all it was. I figured kissing them might help me with that. . . " I trailed off, sounding so very lame, even to my own ears.

"What about the no hanky panky rule?" Now I was genuinely scared, afraid Mike would tell me I'd have to move out. "The guys violated it."

"Mike, I promise it won't happen again if you'll let me stay. And not get mad at the guys. Its not their fault."

Mike's eyebrows raised again. "I never even considered telling you to leave. I'm just worried about everyone involved. Its just not good practice-do you realize the risks here? David and Peter could end up killing each other. That would be a stone drag, man."

"But all I did was kiss them! And besides that, Davy is dating others."

"That might be a coverup so no one suspects anything. I can't speak for David, and I can't speak for Pete, but if I were you, I'd really think hard and long about this. And don't forget something else-you share a bedroom with both of them! Something like this could even break up the band."

Those last words struck terror in me. I'd never forgive myself if I were responsible for something like that happening.

The gig was so much fun. It was a local, very popular club and the guys were excited to be performing there. I sat in the audience, proud that they were my roommates and friends. The audience seemed to love them, especially the women. Davy looked adorable with his tambourine, his smile, and his unique dance moves. Most of the female eyes were glued to him. Peter was smoldering when he moved his hips as he played his bass. He had some moves that were so sexy I thought I could easily run up on the stage and attack him, drag him to the floor, and have my way with him. As passionate as Peter was with kissing, I could just imagine him not even minding if the whole club looked on as I made love to him.

Enough! I dragged my mind back to the present. I tried not to look at either David or Peter for too long, for fear of what one or the other would think. I knew Mike wouldn't say anything to either of them concerning what he knew, but I still felt guilty whenever I looked into Davy's eyes, afraid he somehow knew about me and Peter in the bedroom, on the bed, kissing.

Micky was in his element on the stage. He was born for it. He held the audience captive. And Mike with his subdued guitar playing and singing. Such a contrast to Peter and Micky's energy, yet somehow they all complimented each other. There was never a dull moment for the entire evening. I wasn't a musician myself, but they sounded great to me. I felt they were a real success that evening.

What I didn't expect was that the bands would change about three quarters of the way through the evening. This gave the Monkees a chance to relax and have some fun before the place closed. This also meant dancing. I'd turned down a lot of offers to dance. Not because I didn't want to, as I enjoyed dancing, but I wanted to watch every move the Monkees made, absorb all their instruments' sounds, and I felt I might miss something if I danced with anyone.

Well, as soon as the Monkees exited the stage and came to the table I had saved for them, I praised them so much on their singing and playing that they were all blushing. The girls in the club were eyeing me enviously, and I'd never been so proud. But then, the new band started out with a slow song. I didn't dare sneak a peek at David or Peter, but out of the corner of my eye, I saw both of them get out of their chairs at the same time.

I was hoping one of them had to go to the restroom or get a drink. But no. . .they both came over to my side of the table, as I was sitting opposite them, and asked me to dance at exactly the same time. I looked at Mike in panic, but he had a poker face. Then I remembered there was nothing he could do to help me, as he wasn't even supposed to know about my situation. Micky was watching the three of us with interest, as if it were good entertainment.

I looked up at Davy, then Peter, and shrugged my shoulders helplessly as if as if to convey I didn't know what to do. Davy then took charge of the situation, grabbed my hand and firmly led me to the dance floor. Well, that settled that. At least for now.

Davy was an excellent dancer, but somehow I knew he would be. He was classy and stylish, and what man with those traits doesn't know how to dance? Not many.

He made sure he held me close. I wasn't sure if it was for my benefit or Peter's, or both. I don't think he had liked Peter asking me to dance one bit. I felt like I was floating on air-he was that smooth. He couldn't kiss my lips or neck, because the others were watching, and the hanky panky rule, but I could certainly tell he wanted to. His lips would come within inches. I didn't look at Peter even once. I was afraid to. Even though none of the guys had been drinking-they never did when playing, that old male competition thing could still rear its head at any time. Davy dipped me at the end of the song, and I had no idea how it had affected Peter, and didn't want to know.

The next slow song, to say Peter was ready would be an understatement. He practically sprung from his chair. As soon as we were on the dance floor, Peter held me close, but not quite as close as Davy had. I'm sure it was from insecurity. He didn't say a word about David, but I could tell his passion was escalating, as his breathing was fast. Maybe he was angry, but somehow I didn't think so. I think the competition was making him even more passionate than he already was naturally.

I was never so glad as when that night was over. I danced several fast dances with Davy and several with Peter, then a couple more slow ones with each. The closer it came to closing time, the closer Davy held me when we danced. I couldn't pull away, as that would draw attention. He was turning me on terribly. I could feel myself getting wet. Davy danced a few dances with other girls, but Peter didn't. On the last dance of the evening, which Davy claimed, he whispered to me on the way back to the table.

"Walk in front of me. You've got me all worked up and I don't want the others to see."

At first I didn't know what he was talking about, but quickly figured it out. The thought served to arouse me all the more.

Neither Mike or Micky had asked me to dance all evening. I couldn't blame them either, as Davy and Peter were making it complicated enough as it was, and they didn't want to get involved. Micky found a girl he liked, and after the club closed, he disappeared with her in her car. Mike danced a few slow dances, as he didn't like fast dancing, but I felt his eyes on me, Peter and Davy consistently. I think he was afraid there might be trouble.

That night, as the three of us were going to bed, I didn't make eye contact with either of them when I stepped out of the bathroom in my nightgown and robe and said good night.

I slipped out of the pad a few days later, hoping no one would notice. Everyone appeared to be occupied with something, and I needed to be alone with my thoughts. That crafty Davy had somehow figured out where I'd gone, even though I'd traveled in the opposite direction than I usually did.

I stood there, facing the sea and watching the waves, wondering why I was allowing myself to get so attached to the dark, mysterious small man and the blonde, shy, passionate man who were so different, yet so alike, and both so very dear to me, when I felt hands wrap around my waist from the back. I jumped-it was just a visceral reaction. I turned in the arms of the man, not knowing who I'd find. It was the strangest feeling. It was David.

His hair was blowing in the ocean breeze and he had never looked so inviting. He was so close, and I tried to see his soul in his deep brown eyes.

"I'd love to take you out properly. But because of the hanky panky rule, I can't. It has me frustrated. But maybe we can plan a picnic soon?"

"I'd like that."

His lips were moving ever closer, by tiny degrees that were barely discernible. I knew what he was up to. Always the lover. . . Peter had complained that Davy always got the girls, and I could see why. It was bad enough that his looks were enough to kill, but he knew all the right moves to go with it.

When his lips finally made contact, I tried not to compare the kiss with Peter's, but the thought came completely unbidden. He was so very gentle and tender. I wrapped my arms around his neck, wanting more. . . remembering how sexually excited he'd become on the dance floor. His kiss, as always, was wet, and that sent the flames flickering in my middle. By now, this was our fourth kiss, and he was becoming bolder, sensing how much I liked it. He gave me a little more tongue this time; just enough to tease and tantalize.

When the nearly 5 minute kiss was over, he went to my neck, blowing softly on it, followed by light kisses all the way to my shoulder, then back up again.

It was then I realized we were kissing on the beach again. Even though we were some distance from the pad, it didn't matter, because both Peter and Mike had seen us kiss before, and we hadn't been any farther from the pad than we were now.

I would never want Peter to see this. I wouldn't hurt Peter for the world. And I'd told Mike I wouldn't do it anymore. . .

"We have to stop this," I said.

"Why?"

"Hanky panky rule, and Mike's already seen us kiss on the beach." Nothing said I had to tell him about Peter seeing us too.

"How do you know that?"

"He told me."

"What else did he say?"

"Just about the no hanky panky part, and violating it."

That cooled Davy's ardor considerably. At least for the moment. But he still asked me to go on a picnic with him some time when no one else would see us leave together.

"But don't you care about the hanky panky rule?"

"I'm a grown man, I can do as I please. Michael isn't my boss."

CHAPTER SEVEN

Somehow we'd gotten out of the pad before anyone else was awake. It was 6 o'clock Sunday morning. I'd packed sandwiches, chips and fruit the night before and carefully hidden the picnic basket in a cooler along with soft drinks in a closet downstairs so that all we had to do was grab it and go. It hadn't been easy getting out of bed and leaving the bedroom together without waking Peter. Peter was generally a light sleeper, and with every little creak the floor made from my bare feet, I cringed.

After we'd spread the blanket out in a beautiful local park, under a tall tree, I laid back and looked up through the leaves, enjoying the relaxation and quiet after a stressful week at work.

"So Peter has quite the crush on you, yeah?" This came out of the blue, although I should have expected the subject would come up sooner or later. He seemed to have a talent for catching me off guard.

I carefully measured my words. "Oh, I don't know, David. I think he was just enjoying himself."

"He practically fought me tooth and nail for every dance!"

"Well, you know how Peter is; he was probably reluctant to approach other girls. And since he knows me, he felt more comfortable asking me." There. . .that sounded good.

"Do you like him?" Now that one I really hadn't seen coming.

I played dumb. "Of course I like him! I like all of you guys."

"That's not what I meant, and I think you know it. Do you like him as a man is what I meant."

Now I was really wedged in a tight spot. I didn't want to lie to Davy, but I didn't want to hurt him either.

"Well. . . he's cute, and has a sweet personality, but as a man? I'm not sure." That wasn't as close to truthful as I would have liked, but it was the best I could do. At least I wasn't out and out denying it.

"So there's a possibility, then. . . "

"A possibility I like him? There's a . . . possibility for anything, I suppose."

This got a reaction from David.

"So he's competition?"

"Davy! I'm not dating either of you! How could he be competition?"

I'll make sure he's not." Davy's voice carried real resolve. So with that, he laid down beside me, pulling me into his arms gently but with determination. The kiss that followed was deeper and more involved than I'd ever had from Davy. My instinct was that it was as if he were trying to make me forget Peter. Closer and closer he crept, sly as a snake, until his body touched mine clear down to our feet.

He moved to adjust himself to allow me to pull my hair loose that he was lying on, and I felt something hard against my thigh. I almost asked what it was, thinking he had something in his pocket, and then was horrified to realize he had an erection, and it was throbbing against me.

If I hadn't been so caught up in the moment, I might have had to try hard to stifle a laugh, as I could just imagine myself asking him, "What's that in your pocket?" That timeless joke that never ceases to be funny. Except when it happens to you. I wondered how he would have handled that. No doubt he would have been mortified.

As the kissing continued, I felt the slightest movement of his hips against me. It could just as easily have been subconscious on his part-just a natural response to our nearness and the kissing. He was very aroused. But a second later, that notion of it being subconscious was dismissed in a hurry. He cupped my butt in his hands and pulled me gently right into his erection.

I gasped and pulled away, staring at him. "David! I never would have thought that you. . . of all people. . . "

"Oh god, Kerri. I'm sorry... I told you its been a while... and frankly... you're so beautiful that I couldn't... help myself."

"But. . . you're not like that!" I was still aghast at what had just happened. Most other guys, it wouldn't have surprised me a bit. But Davy? A classy, exceedingly polite, proper Englishman who had never given me any reason to believe otherwise. The months I'd lived with him, and even slept in his bedroom, and he'd never made a single improper move, or said a single improper thing. He'd tried to rub me against his hard on!

"Is your behavior because of Peter?"

Surprisingly, he didn't jump to deny it. In fact, he grew silent and almost pensive.

"I... think that's... possible," he finally said. Brownie points to him for being honest. "I guess I wanted to remind you that I'm a man... one who can make you happy in every way... even in the bedroom. Not that I'd try to do that at this point... you see, but I'm not as perfect as I think you believe me to be. I'm not as much of an angel as you think."

I was still dazed by his confession by the time our picnic was over. As I pondered it, I had to admit to myself that he was, after all, just a man. We ate mostly in silence, and he didn't try to kiss me again. I think he knew I'd shy away. I felt the situation was getting out of control. Mike had been right-there were real risks here, and it could end up being a stone drag.

Davy and I had carelessly not even made a plan as to how we'd return to the pad after the picnic. I'd put the basket and cooler in the trunk of Davy's car, so it was out of sight, but still. . . as we drove up, I spied the Monkeemobile, and I knew Peter was driving it today. So that meant Peter was home. Great. Just what I needed. So as we exited Davy's car, I tried to think of an excuse as to why we'd been out somewhere together.

In the end, I decided it was my business, Peter wasn't my boyfriend, and I really didn't owe an explanation to anyone. I would just be vague. So when Peter's quick brown eyes-yes, they were dark brown, which I already knew belied some strong emotion, caught my glance, I smiled at him as innocently as I could manage.

"Hi Peter! Its a beautiful day out there," I commented brightly.

"Hi," said Peter simply.

David said a quick, flat hi to Peter, then went up the stairs to the bedroom. Oh, this is just wonderful. Now Peter thinks Davy is feeling guilty because we were together, when the real reason Davy was so quiet was probably because he felt he'd messed up the picnic by getting too amorous with me. In fact, I knew that was the reason, as he'd hardly talked on the way home.

Sweet Peter. He just stood there, looking at me. "Can we go somewhere and talk?" he asked in a whisper after David was in the bedroom.

"Of course, Peter. Want to go for a walk on the beach?"

"Sure." Peter got up, threw his empty bag of chips in the trash, and we went out the door, but not before Davy opened the bedroom door and saw us slipping out together. I knew because I heard the bedroom door crack open.

"This is getting out of hand... I finally have enough nerve to admit I'm jealous." Peter's outburst was the biggest surprise of the day. Even bigger than Davy's inappropriate behavior at the park. Peter's voice wasn't raised, but he was clearly agitated. I bet he'd been planning what he would say for some time before Davy and I came home.

"I saw you guys sneaking out of the bedroom at 6 this morning." Peter's face was so crestfallen that you would have thought he were my steady boyfriend when the truth was, we'd only kissed a few times. But I did think it was very sweet that he was putting himself out there enough to tell me how he felt. He wasn't being controlling-he was just expressing himself.

"Okay, Peter. I'll tell you the truth. We went on a picnic today. I won't go into details, because that doesn't concern you or me, and I won't violate David's privacy either, but it didn't turn out well." Why I threw in the part about it not turning out well was a mystery even to myself. Maybe I was trying to make Peter feel better about it?

"You didn't... with him?"

Good Lord, Peter was wondering if David and I had slept together-it was evident from the look on his face.

"Oh Peter, no! If you were anyone else, I'd say it was none of your business, but you're
Peter, and you deserve to know nothing like that happened. We just had a, well... misunderstanding. Hence, Davy's mood." That wasn't really accurate, but I knew of no other way to put it without telling him in detail what actually had happened.

We spent the rest of our walk mostly in silence. I wanted him terribly, but didn't feel it was right to go off somewhere to kiss him after I'd just gone on a picnic with Davy only a short time ago.

That night all five of us watched a movie, and we were pretty squashed on the couch. I found myself between Peter and Davy, no doubt because Mike and Micky made sure they claimed the ends of the couch so the other three of us could take up the middle. Mike had a general idea of what was going on, and Micky must have sensed the tension and wanted no part of it. So they left us to our own devices.

I won't even try to describe how I felt between the two of them, pressed against them, as there was so little room. I've yet to experience any other feeling even in its league. It felt almost sinful, and that was mostly because I wanted both of them so badly. It were as if I was a stick of dynamite with two fuses, and they were both lit. Davy was the flame on one side, Peter on the other, unintentionally rubbing against me every time they moved a fraction of an inch.

It was pure heaven and pure hell at the same time. Everything was turning me on. Stimulation seemed to be everywhere. And the funny part was, no one was doing anything sexual to me. Peter had his ankle resting on his opposite knee, the way he usually sat. His arms were spread out along the top of the couch, which meant one of his arms was behind me. Just that thought alone was enough to undo me. I wanted that arm around me. Davy sat with legs apart, one of them making contact with my leg. I swear my leg was tingling. I could feel each of them breathing. I thought I'd go insane.

I couldn't have told you what that movie was about if my life depended on it. At one point I felt a very soft, caressing touch at the top of my back. In an area where it wouldn't be noticed if done quickly. It lasted only a second or two. Since Davy had one hand on his leg and the other was fingering his love beads, I knew it was Peter. That hand that was along the top of the couch. He was assuring me he was thinking of me. I couldn't acknowledge it, but I smiled as I looked at the TV, and in my peripheral vision, I saw that Peter had seen the smile. It was a very sweet secret between us that made my whole day.

It was inevitable that at times I would be at home and either Davy or Peter would be gone. It was strange going to bed and having one of them there, and the other not. At those times I enjoyed the whispered conversations in the dark when we retired for the night.

Davy was the one most often gone, and it was all I could do to keep from dragging Peter from his hammock into bed with me. Tonight, we didn't know when Davy would be home, but just the same, we never touched each other, for fear Davy would come through the door at any second. He was such a quiet, stealthy mover that he often came up the stairs as soundlessly as a ghost.

Tonight I reached up to the hammock and poked Peter playfully in the side. He jumped, looked around, and realized it was me. That dimpled smile appeared, and he poked me back in the ribs.

"What does it feel like to sleep in a hammock?" I asked.

"Out of sight. Wanna try it?"

"Well, if you show me how I can do it without falling out."

Peter helped me into the hammock, and I was surprised by how very comfortable it was. So I got cocky, and tried swinging it a bit by rocking my body.

"Be careful-it doesn't take much to tip over," Peter warned.

I got more and more bold, until I had it swinging back and forth fluidly, laughing my head off, almost losing my balance a few times. The next moment I did lose my balance, and would have tipped it and crashed to the floor if Peter had not been at the ready, and grabbed me and the hammock in the same motion. This caused him to have to lean heavily over me with his body to steady me.

It happened in a flash. We were both laughing, him leaning in close, and our lips just met. FIRE! Especially lately, Peter always had such a powerful effect on me. My stomach clenched, and I felt it all the way from my toes to my uterus. Peter pulled back, and I happened to look at his pajama bottoms, which wasn't difficult, the way he was leaning over me, and was both thrilled and fascinated to see he had a very obvious erection. It would have been nearly impossible for anyone to miss-it looked huge.

I looked back up into his eyes, and I saw that he saw what I'd seen. I knew he was just as embarrassed as I was, and I felt sorry for him. He couldn't control his body. I was just lucky that, being a woman, my arousal wasn't so physically obvious as his was. My nipples were certainly stiff, though. I had no bra on under my nightgown, and precisely when I was realizing that, I caught him stabbing a quick glance in that area. He thought he'd been quick-but not quite quick enough.

I got out of the hammock like a flash, and back into bed. We said good night, but I fantasized about what had occurred, with much added detail, a couple of hours before I finally was able to go to sleep.

CHAPTER EIGHT

With real concern, I realized that sooner or later I would no longer be able to resist these dynamic, sexy guys. Around that time, Peter went out of town to see his parents, and stayed the night to avoid driving home late at night. Peter tended to get sleepy at the wheel at night, so it was safer for him to stay at their house until morning.

This was a perilous situation, and Davy and I both knew it from the moment Peter called, stating his intent to stay overnight.

I stayed up as late as I possibly could, and at 12:30 I finally yawned and casually mentioned I was going to bed. David, being the slick one he was, waited about 20 minutes, then I heard him tell Mike and Micky he was going to bed too. I heard Mike say he was also going to turn in, and Micky had decided to call his girlfriend, who liked late night calls from her sweetie.

So up the stairs stalked Davy, opening the door soundlessly and slipping into his bed. I watched him get undressed and into his pajamas by the dim illumination of the nightlight.

"You're still awake," he said casually.

"How did you know?"

"I can see your eyes." I hadn't realized he could see that my eyes were open in the near darkness. That made me wonder how often he'd seen me looking at him or Peter when I was sure they thought I was asleep.

"Can I come over there?" There he went again, catching me totally unaware. Would he never stop being one step ahead of me? Rendering me wordless?

"Why?"

"I feel bad about what happened when we had our picnic. I want you show you that you can trust me."

Boy, was that tempting! I didn't even trust my voice to speak out loud. I was afraid I'd sound squeaky, like Mickey Mouse or something. To have David in my bed with me? That would be indescribable. Something dreams are made of.

"Shit, I'm coming anyway." I knew Davy and the others cussed, they were guys after all, and they occasionally slipped up in my presence, usually accompanied by an apology. I'd sometimes heard them downstairs, when I'd come to bed early. They would speak softly so their voices wouldn't carry, but I heard some pretty colorful language anyway. I remained silent, taken by surprise at his words.

I thought he was just kidding about coming over to my bed, until I felt the bed sinking under his weight.

"David! The only reason you're here is because you know Peter will be gone all night!"

"Yeah...no sense lying about it, mate. If you want me to go back to my bed, just say the word."

We had kissed quite a few times, and this was no different except that we were in bed. Rather, I was in bed, and he was on the bed. And I had, after all, laid on the bed with Peter that day when Mike had caught us. So not really fair to chase David away. So I welcomed him with a hug.

It felt like it had been ages since we'd been this close, and it had, in fact, been a couple of weeks. Might as well have been years. His body heat warmed me in areas that reminded me how much he turned me on.

Davy's lips were on my neck. I was sitting up, and he pushed me down. I'm not sure why, but that was a huge turn on. I had no fear of him. I trusted him completely. I knew he would never dream of forcing me, and I wanted this, so I allowed it. When he kissed me, there was definite passion there. He was the type that lets things happen at a nice, slow pace. Torturously slow. But when he felt it was time, and he got a green light from me, I knew he would not hesitate to take things farther. That was where the danger came in.

We quickly got to the point to where we were both panting with need, and he asked me silently with his eyes if he could slip under the covers with me. I pulled them back and welcomed him in. We cuddled and snuggled for quite a while, then he began kissing me again. He pulled me on top of him, and even in the dim light, his dark good looks, once again, took my breath away. His head on my pillow, his hair spread back on it. I still could not for the life of me figure out how he could be so handsome and adorably cute at the same time. No wonder girls swooned over him on the street, or at a club, or in a restaurant. He turned heads on a regular basis. He made hearts ache and break, including mine.

His dark eyes were serious. I was mostly on top of him except for our lower bodies, which I was careful to keep away from contact with him. I remembered how Peter's arousal had been clearly outlined in his pajamas, and I knew how thin Davy's pajamas were. I'd be able to feel everything.

I kissed Davy's forehead, ran my fingers through his hair, which was every bit as soft as Peter's, and he kissed my collarbone. He didn't try anything else, just as I knew he wouldn't. David was the type to take the cue from the woman, and even though he'd gotten a bit carried away at our picnic, that had been atypical. Once he got the okay though, I was certain he would not waver. David was a born lover-plain and simple. My job was making sure he didn't think I was giving him the okay. Much easier said than done when you're in bed with Davy Jones.

It felt eerie, as if I were trying to swim through very deep, thick syrup. Sluggish, moving in slow motion, and I wasn't strong enough to swim to shore. Drowning in desire. Very sweet desire. David was the spider, and he had me in his web. I couldn't seem to break free. Every time I stiffened in preparation to pull back, I found myself snuggling deeper into his embrace instead.

I found my hand touching his bare chest through the unfastened top buttons of his pajamas. He always kept the top two undone or else he felt claustrophobic. I knew so much about him, so many little details, quirks, yet so little when it came to intimacy. Only a few hairs adorned his chest. He squirmed as if in pain when I touched him.

"Are you alright?" I asked.

"Yes. . . " he was breathless. "It just feels so good."

I almost always waited at least a couple of months before sleeping with a guy, feeling that a good friendship foundation was essential before intimacy. I had, in fact, known, and lived with David for nearly 4 months, but we hadn't even dated. Except for stolen kisses now and then, it had been for the most part, just a good, close friendship. Now things were evolving. . . and I wasn't sure if I was ready.

I didn't, of course, intend anything to happen. I expected it to stop as it had with Peter and the hammock. But the feel was so right, as was the timing. We were all alone, with no chance of being disturbed. We took it very slow. Davy was deliberate, even though he could hardly conceal the fact that he was anxious to make love to me. He didn't act as if he expected it-in fact, I knew he didn't expect it. He was probably expecting me to stop at kissing, as was always the case before.

It was almost painful for both of us, as our need had had so much time to develop. Sleeping so close to each other each night. So near yet so far. Spending so much time together, me watching the guys practice, going to their gigs, watching TV together, eating dinner together most of the time, even observing each other's idiosyncrasies. We'd held back for so long.

It was almost autumn and a cool breeze blew through the open window. I had instant goose bumps. As much as from Davy's nearness as from the breeze. I shivered, and he held me closer still. My breasts were pressed up against his chest. His hands were running over my arms, my neck. He cradled my head on his chest and sighed.

"I'd love to stay like this forever," he murmured. "Except that I can't. I really have to get back into my bed now. I have to do it while I'm still able to. . . before I become uncontrollable." His wording was meant to sound lighthearted, but we both knew the truth behind his words.

"I really want you to stay here." That's all I had to say-he understood. A flower doesn't open its bloom all at once. Its a tedious process that requires patience regardless of the degree of anticipation. It opens only when it is time, and never before.

We moved together tentatively at first, touching lightly, and then more confidently. As he kissed me, lips soft and questing against mine, his hand brushed against my breast. I knew it was intentional. I moaned softly, a wordless invitation. David gently tugged the straps of my nightgown down on my upper arms, caressing the flesh now bared near my cleavage.

We kissed fervently now, Davy silently asking permission with his movements. Stop and start. . . stop and start. . . until I encouraged him by arching my back a bit when his hand came close to my breasts. At last he cupped me gently, then moved his other hand to my back to pull me as close as possible. The movement tugged my nightgown down, and my first thought was to pull it back up. But then I realized it was probably a strategy he'd used before. He was as slick and smooth as butter with his techniques as he was with his charm.

My breasts were now both bare, the nightgown having slipped below them. David's head slipped under the sheet, and in the next instant, I felt his mouth on my breast. I jerked-thoroughly shook up. That had been too quick for me to absorb. Even though I was not inexperienced, and knew what was going to occur, it still sent shock waves through me. I didn't expect it to happen quite this fast. He licked circles around my nipple, involuntarily thrusting lightly against me as he did so. Then he sucked gently, wetly, and I felt a growing moistness between my legs. He didn't stay at it long enough for me. I felt I needed more time, but the next thing I knew, he'd moved down to my pubic area, gently parting my legs and settling himself between them.

His mouth felt as soft as his lips always looked. He was losing the tight hold he had on himself. I wanted to tell him to relax and let things take their course. But his desire was ruling him, and he found my clit with his tongue immediately. Again I was reminded, and amazed at how experienced he was at his young age. He knew exactly what to do, and how to do it. The licking and gentle sucking had a hypnotic effect.

It didn't take me longer than 5 minutes at the most. As the passion grew deep in my belly, he increased the pressure in that area very slowly, knowing it has to be done gradually, and not with complete abandon at first. A woman is slower to build her desire than a man. But then when I neared my climax he knew to increase his tongue pressure, quicken the strokes and suckling until I cried out, thrashing around, calling his name.

Davy could hardly contain himself-I felt it in his actions. Up he came to settle himself on top of me, and he knew exactly where to insert himself on the first try. Quite a feat for one so young. "Are you sure?" he said breathlessly.

I nodded, unable to speak. Good thing I was already on the pill. What a gentle lover he was. Nice and slow at first, filling me gradually so I could get used to the feel of him inside of me. Then very light strokes to make sure he wasn't causing me pain. Then, within a few minutes, stronger, much deeper strokes that became quicker in tempo. He didn't last long, and I didn't expect him to this first time. He'd said it had been a while for him, so naturally he was close to release after only a short window of time.

I held him close, feeling it coming. "Kerri. . . Kerri. . . it won't be long," he said, and then I felt the pulsating inside me, and Davy cried out softly, several times before he was spent, and collapsed on me.

Neither of us talked for some time. "I was rather a bit too eager, wasn't I?" came his voice from the dark.

"Maybe a little. But I remembered your comment about it being a while for you."

"Yes, well let's hope I'm able to obtain better control after we've been together a few times."

He slept with me in my bed the entire night. Actually, it being Peter's bed in reality, made me feel guilty more than once, although I tried not to think of it. We woke twice in the middle of the night, and he made love to me both times.

I couldn't deny it any longer. Even after we'd made love for the third time, Peter kept creeping back into my mind. What was I going to do about Peter?

CHAPTER NINE

When Peter got home the next afternoon, he had a huge dimpled smile for me and a gift. A little trinket he'd gotten from a gift shop near his parents' house. It was a turtle figurine. I had mentioned only once that I liked turtles, and Peter had remembered. I hugged him tightly and luxuriated in the excellent hugs that Peter gave. They were unlike anyone else's-really heartfelt. When I turned around, Davy was right there, observing, but no look of jealousy marred his expression. Just interest.

Davy and Peter hugged, and seemed to linger a bit longer than I thought was normal for men. I realized they were really fond of each other. When they broke the hug, Peter smacked Davy gently on the butt, as he often did, and his hand stayed there just a fraction of a second longer than it usually did. The Monkees touched each other a lot, but these two seemed to have a special connection.

"Glad to have you back, babe," said Davy. The Monkees sometimes referred to each other as "babe," something that was unique, as I hadn't heard that expression said among men before. But by now I was well accustomed to the Monkees' strange habits and mannerisms. Nothing much surprised me anymore.

"You're a bit hung up on Peter, aren't you?... Kerri?" It just came out of the blue. I stopped what I was doing, which was making the bed. Just Davy and I were in the bedroom; he was folding clothes fresh from the dryer. I cursed Davy under my breath for catching me unprepared again. How do you find a diplomatic answer to a question like that? There wasn't one. I struggled for something to say to avoid answering directly.

"Really," he said, "stop thinking what to say, and just tell me. I've seen it for a while now, and I believe its getting worse. Or better-depending on how you look at it."

"David, I do like Peter an awful lot. But I don't know about being hung up on him." That could have been taken a few different ways, as I was trying to be evasive and buy time. But no dice. Davy couldn't be put off.

"Have you kissed him?" There it was. He was delving again.

"Does it matter?"

"Well... considering you and I have slept together, I'd say it does. And you've just given me your answer, you know."

"You're too quick for me. You caught me-I wouldn't have lied to you anyway. Yes, I've kissed him."

"How long ago?"

I wouldn't have put up with this interrogation if it weren't Davy I was talking to. He wasn't being demanding-he was just genuinely curious. I knew him well enough by now to know the difference. I'd seen him questioning the guys about various things in this same way. It wasn't just this current situation, so I knew I shouldn't take it personally. Coming from someone else, yes. But not Davy.

"Before you and I. . .well, before that night we spent together."

"He's been told about the no hanky panky rule too, you know."

"Well, I hardly think you're the one to be judging him on that! You slept with me, he didn't."

"I wonder what Mike would say if he knew about this triangle we have going on here," Davy said thoughtfully. He was just thinking out loud, there was nothing cryptic in his speech, and I also knew better than to think Davy would ever tell Mike. He wouldn't. He was just mulling it over in his mind, something he did on a regular basis, about all kinds of subjects. What puzzled me was how calm and nonchalant he seemed about this whole thing.

"I wouldn't call it a triangle, David. I've only kissed Peter a few times."

"Ahhhh. . . a few times."

"You asked if I'd kissed him... not how many times I kissed him."

"Who do you prefer?"

Shell shock yet again. With any other guy, this would mean he was being possessive, jealous. Or thinking about demanding that I choose between the two of them. But I knew how naturally inquisitive David was. He would have liked to crawl into everyone's mind if he could. He simply had a genuine interest in how other people thought.

"David, I don't know. All I've done is kiss Peter...I've done...um...slept with you." I wasn't quite sure why that embarrassed me so to say it aloud.

"Well, maybe you need to sleep with Peter to find out." It was said calmly, with no malice. In a purely conversational tone. I gasped and glared at him.

"To use a term you are fond of, you must be joking! You! You've shocked me again! Why would you say something like that? You are joking, aren't you?" One look at his serious face told me he was being bluntly honest.

"Well, it makes sense to me. But then, I'm not a woman. But its what a man would do if he couldn't choose between two women." He said this with the most innocent look on his face. I was astonished.

"That's disrespectful of you!"

"Hey," he grabbed my hands in his. "I'm not trying to be disrespectful in any way. I'm just stating a fact. I'm not insinuating that you run around sleeping with a bunch of guys-just Peter."

At this point, I was so lost that I had no idea what to think. He was intent on figuring this thing out, that much was for sure. It seemed to be particularly interesting to him. But what was so odd about it was the practical, analytical approach he was taking. This was so far removed from the from typical behavior that ruled where men and women are involved, where emotions usually run high.

I thought I'd never see something like this in a lifetime. Here was a guy I'd had sex with, and had feelings for, suggesting I choose between him and another man by sleeping with the other man. And what made it even more perplexing was that he was not demanding that I make a choice. He was quietly, calmly assessing our predicament. I was stunned, and couldn't imagine how he could encourage me to sleep with another man.

"Let me try again. I'll put it another way if I can. If you like two guys, and considering all other things are equal, in order to make a decision, you need to know which you're sexually compatible with...I'm not saying sex is everything... its not, but you can't deny it is important in a relationship. If you're compatible with both, well then, it gets a bit more complicated. I'm just trying to be pragmatic."

"What I can't wrap my mind around is how you can be so casual about this conversation! And never in my life have I heard of a guy I'm involved with suggesting I sleep with another man! And that brings up another thing- why, may I ask you, do I have to make a decision?"

"Well, I guess you don't really, but someone could end up really getting hurt. You have to think about that."

"But I haven't slept with Peter-I've only kissed him. Its not as if I'm in love with two guys, or two guys are in love with me. Now, that would be different. There's no serious relationship going on here. There's no law against me just kissing Peter, is there?"

"No, but its also not fair to lead him on." That stopped me cold. As unsettling and befuddling as this conversation was, there was truth in what David said. I wasn't sure exactly how Peter felt about me, but I wouldn't want to go on kissing him, only to end up with Davy. That would be thoughtless. For that matter, I didn't even know exactly how Davy felt about me. But I wasn't going to bring that up, as I wouldn't want Davy taking it the wrong way. Like I was trying to push him into a relationship with me. But wasn't he pushing me? Was he only curious, or was he genuinely wanting me to make a decision between the two of them?

"Why are you pressuring me like this? Remember, you and I haven't even been on a date! Its not as if I'm your steady girlfriend or anything. This is bizarre." I threw my hands up in exasperation.

I couldn't believe we were even having this conversation. If this had happened six months down the road, and Davy and I were dating, it would have made more sense. Something just didn't ring right with me.

I knew I had to talk to someone about this. Someone other than Davy. Someone who could look at it from the outside- someone who wasn't involved. I know Peter was far from the best choice, as he was right in the midst of it. But I had no one else to turn to. I had no friends at work that I was close enough to, that would remotely understand something like this. They would think I'd lost my mind. It was a very uncomfortable subject for me to bring up to anyone, let alone someone I wasn't close to. And I couldn't talk to Mike or Micky because of the no hanky panky rule.

So. . . after a lot of thinking about it, when a few days later Peter joined me on my routine beach walk, I decided to take the opportunity to bring it up. I just had to talk to someone about it. I needed feedback because Davy's behavior didn't make sense to me.

"Peter, David said some strange things the other day. I don't know who to talk to about it."

"I'm all ears, if you want to bounce it off me."

"Well... I don't know where to begin, really. Its just so odd. He noticed how I'm attracted to you, and...well, he acted as if I needed to make a decision. In fact, he actually said that." I wasn't going to bring up sleeping with Davy, or the fact that he suggested I sleep with Peter. That would surely overwhelm Peter, and there was a good likelihood it would scare him off me for good. And I wasn't prepared to give him up. He meant too much to me.

Peter's eyes widened considerably. It took him a little while to take in what I'd just said. Poor guy-it must have been shocking. "Really? I had no idea things were that serious between you two."

"That's the weirdest part. I didn't either. I mean, we've never even been on a date." Leaving out the sex with Davy was denying Peter the whole story, and that wasn't right, but I just was not ready to tell him that part. I was too afraid of losing him. But I did feel like I was only giving Peter half of the story. Which, in truth, I was.

Peter contemplated what I'd said for a few more minutes. "It doesn't add up," he finally stated. And he was right. It didn't add up, the way I'd told it to him, with the missing pieces, but even so, it still didn't add up even throwing in the part about Davy and I making love, and him suggesting I do the same with Peter.

"Is there something deeper here that I'm not getting?" I couldn't blame Peter for asking that question. I would have, too. I avoided the question with another question.

"How can he think he can tell me I have to make a decision between you two?"

"I don't know, but all I can think is he must be feeling a lot more for you than he's letting on. Has he indicated that to you?"

"No, not really."

"This is off the subject somewhat, but I don't want to forget to mention it. Did he tell you he's planning a visit to England?"

This came as the biggest shock yet. "No! Never mentioned a word! When?"

"Not sure exactly when. But probably within a few weeks. He goes there to visit his family every few months."

"How long will he be gone?"

"He's usually gone around 10 days to two weeks. It might give us a chance to talk and try to sort this thing out."

All kinds of thoughts streamed through my mind in a nanosecond. A virtual swirling river of ponderings. David gone, me alone with Peter, the bedroom all to ourselves. Oh man, this was too soon! I wasn't ready to be alone like that with Peter yet. I felt things had happened sexually too quickly with Davy, but Peter. . . it was even worse. I hadn't spent as much time with Peter, and with Peter being so shy, we hadn't shared as many thoughts and feelings either. You had to work at getting Peter out of his shell. But I did know that if I spent a lot of quality time with Peter in the next few weeks, we would be a lot closer by the time Davy would be leaving for England. Just the thought of it was sending chills up and down my spine.

I was a little pissed off at Davy for not mentioning his upcoming trip to England, but I really had no right. He'd known Peter much longer than me-he was his closest friend. Of course he would tell Peter first.

I realized I had a few weeks to get to know Peter better. Whatever happened though, if anything did while Davy was gone, I resolved that I would not try to manipulate things in any way. It would have to happen naturally. Spontaneously. There could be no forcing it. No planning. I didn't, of course, mention a thing about it to Peter. That would surely take away from it. If it were meant to happen, I knew there would be no doubt in my mind.

CHAPTER NINE

Might as well get started as soon as possible.

"Peter, I'd like to get to know you better, spend some time with you." I didn't know what his response would be. Like David, I wasn't sure how he felt about me. Maybe he just like kissing me. I supposed this was the best way to find out. We were both shy, he even more so than me, and I was going to have to learn to overcome it if I were to make any progress with him. I had a strong sense he was worth it.

"You would?" So far, so good. His gaze was stuck on my face like velcro, waiting to hear what else I had to say.

"Yes. Would you like to walk further along the beach-at least a couple of miles?" So we'll be well out of the sight of the pad. He was more than willing, so we headed toward an area where the the beach followed the edges of cliffs, curving often. An area where someone would actually have to seriously come looking for us to find us, and walk a couple of miles in the process. I could see Davy covering maybe a mile in one direction, and a mile in the other, but not much farther than that.

When we finally reached the spot I was thinking of, the setting was perfect. The Indian summer was stretching out ahead of us, with the promise of plenty of warm days left. After rounding a few curves, we found an enormous, smooth rock that was to our liking, so we sat on it, Peter helping me up. He lifted me as if I weighed as much as a small bird. His hands around my waist were secure and strong, making me feel weak in the knees. We stretched our legs out in the sun and looked out at the waves. This was the kind of romantic setting I'd always dreamed of since I first became interested in boys. The beach and the ocean. In my opinion, the most romantic environment in the world.

We could talk for a while, and I'd try to learn the things I didn't already know about him, and then maybe... I'd get the nerve to touch him, entice him to kiss me. It wouldn't be easy at first. I'd learned that once a spark was lit in Peter, and he felt secure, he would give affection freely. It was just that awkward period before we touched that he'd be hesitant and bashful.

I used tricks I had learned over the years. A couple of seagulls were fighting over a bread crumb, and came close to us, squawking and flapping. I grabbed Peter's upper arm in both my hands as I sat beside him, pretending to be afraid, although I really wasn't. He brought his other hand around the front of me, holding the side of my face against his shoulder as if to protect me from the gulls.

It was pretty natural going from there. I simply didn't let go of his arm, kept it in my grip, letting my head come to rest on his shoulder- another trick that was very convenient and felt natural. He moved his hips so as to close the gap between us. From there, I started to play with his hair, one of my favorite pastimes. He and Davy had such nice hair-it was practically impossible to keep your hands off it. Lifting strands of it with my fingers, it gleamed in the late afternoon sun like spun gold. It smelled like baby shampoo.

He turned his head toward me in appreciation, practically purring like a cat. Peter was such a sensual being, but I had my doubts that he even knew it.

"What's your favorite color?" I asked him softly.

"Purple."

"Makes sense. A bit unconvential, my Peter."

I cupped his face and kissed his cheek. As I drew back just the slightest bit, he turned his head toward me and his lips caught mine. Ahhhhh... he was coming around.

"Missed you..." he whispered against my lips so softly I had to strain to hear it. Very meticulously he monitored the situation. He held me lightly, letting me decide what kind of kiss this would be. When I leaned into him and moved my fingers over his cheek and neck, he got down to business as only Peter could. His lips worked against mine, the kiss deepened within a minute or so, until our tongues touched, then rubbed, and Peter moaned.

Feeling Peter's hand lightly supporting my lower back, his mouth open against mine, breathing hard, working his wonders, I knew now that his first kisses had not been a fluke. This man was chock full of passion just waiting to come bursting out. He broke the kiss long enough to kiss my neck, still moaning. Then, as if he hadn't just gotten done kissing me, he threw himself into it again.

His renewed his kisses were ardent, almost burning. He was making love to my mouth with his. His eagerness just served to excite me further. Whereas Davy would usually manage to have at least some measure of control even in the heat of passion, not Peter, and there was a wildness about him that made me crave more of him. He didn't hold back-that's what it was. His cup was overflowing with affection-it wasn't just sexual desire. It was the two melded together that was part of its immense appeal.

But, in the back recesses of his mind, I think he was also ever cautious of being overzealous. He didn't want to frighten me, alienate me. So it was with a great effort that he pulled back, waiting, watching my expression, looking for clues.

I smiled and asked him what he dreamed about at night. Trying to continue finding out more about him was more difficult than I had thought it would be with all this pent up sexual tension and need to touch each other that was ever present between us.

"I dream of exotic places, animals, bridges, chocolate, mountains, shoes, well, just about everything, actually."

I hadn't expected such a plethora of dream subjects, but it was plausible, knowing Peter. You just had to know Peter-he was a perplexing character at times. Fairly predictible, for the most part, but an enigma at other times. Sometimes bordering on eccentric.

"What's your favorite color?" He was seeming to enjoy this exchange.

"Yellow, black, and, like you, I also have an affinity for purple."

"Groovy! Okay, and what are your dreams about?" he continued.

"Oh, mine are so varied that I'd never be able to remember even a fraction of them." I realized then that I was more like Peter than I'd thought.

"Well, dreams are all in symbols anyway. They are never what they appear to be."

"That's what I've heard. And analyzing them apparently is very difficult."

"Yeah, with my crazy dreams, I gave up trying to figure out what they mean a long time ago."

"Where would you go if you could go any place in the world?" he asked.

"Probably Jamaica or the Bahamas. You?"

"Africa. I like the element of imminent danger and basic survival."

"You didn't look too happy about the danger when Mike was knocking on the door," I pointed out with a smile.

"That kind of danger, no. Not when it threatens something that means a lot to me."

"And what was that?"

"You."

This left me speechless. Peter was a straight shooter. I really liked that. No games, no pretentions. Simple yet strangely complex at the same time. I was fascinated. Yep, I was hooked.

After many more kisses-more than I could count if I had tried, the sun started to set. I felt like a huge bowl of jello- my insides felt soft and squishy. I wanted Peter so badly that I wondered how my legs would hold up on the way home. I felt myself quivering with my need for him. We realized we'd have to head back. As it was, we'd get back after dark. And there would be Davy to contend with.

"Can we do this again?" Peter blushed, and I knew he was hoping I didn't think he meant more than the kissing part. "Talk again, I mean, alone."

"Of course! I want to. You're a very interesting person." I wanted to say a hell of a lot more-like how much he turned me on, for instance, but kept that to myself. At least for now.

By the time we'd covered the two miles back to the pad, it was pitch dark.

"It'll start getting dark earlier all the time now," said Peter.

"Yes, I thought about that. Pretty soon, we'll only have weekends to walk on the beach, by the time we all get home from work."

"I always hate to see summer go."

"Has Mike said anything more to you lately?"

"No, I think maybe he gave up, and is going to just let us work it out for ourselves. I don't think he's said anything to David either."

"So much for the hanky panky rule," I said. I felt guilty about it, as I'd told Michael I would stop kissing David and Peter. But I hadn't.

The second we walked in the door of the pad, I felt Davy's eyes on us. They were all sitting around eating pizza. Saturday night pizza.

"Where've you guys been?" asked Micky.

"Oh, we were just walking on the beach, and the dark crept up on us. Then we still had to walk back quite a ways." I explained.

Peter wasn't looking at anyone. He was busy getting his pizza and mine on plates, feverishly keeping himself occupied. And avoiding the conversation too, I noticed. It didn't escape Davy's notice. But he didn't say a word.

The next evening, Davy caught me on the bottom of the stairs. He slunk down to the step I was perched on, quiet and graceful as a panther.

"So did you and Peter have a nice walk last night?" Straight to the point. I actually kind of liked that about him. At least he didn't beat around the bush for 15 minutes before he got to what he really wanted to say.

"Yes, we did." I said in what I hoped was a casual voice.

"Did you kiss him again?"

"David! Why do you ask me that?"

"I'm curious is all."

"Yes, I did."

"Did he behave himself?"

"Yes, he always does." I remembered when Davy had rubbed against me in the park before we'd slept together, and I hoped he didn't take my remark as a reminder that he hadn't been as well behaved as Peter.

"I'm going to England in two weeks to visit my family." There it was. He was finally telling me. I acted surprised, so he wouldn't know Peter had already told me.

"You are? How nice. I bet you can't wait to see your dad."

"I'm looking forward to it... but wondering what will happen with you and Peter when I'm gone. Have you decided if you'll make love with him or not?"

I took a deep breath. "David, like I said before-this is hardly a subject we should be discussing. I still can't believe you are asking me about it."

"We'll see what happens. But for now, I need you to myself." He got up and offered me his hand. He led me to the Monkeemobile, and we got in wordlessly. I wondered what the others might think-we hadn't even bothered to tell them we were leaving.

CHAPTER TEN

Davy took me to a look-out from the top of some cliffs. The view was fantastic with all the lights of Los Angeles below twinkling invitingly.

"I'm nervous about you and Peter, but you're a big girl, and I know you'll do the right thing."

I wasn't sure exactly what he meant by that.

"The right thing?"

"You'll do what you think is best," he said by way of explanation.

"David, I'm crazy about both of you." This was the first time I'd revealed so much, even to myself really, but it had just slipped right off my tongue.

"I know."

"You do?"

"Yes, I see the way you look at him. As for him, I know him too well. He tries to hide it, but he's feeling it too. I'm sure you know I'm closer to Peter than any of the others. He's a damn good friend. I love him a lot."

David's confession touched my heart. "Men don't usually talk that way about each other."

"Well, Peter and I have something special. What I want to say is, if you do decide to make love with him, it couldn't be with a better person. He'll treat you right. You know, of course, that I want you, but if you choose him in the end, I'll understand. I won't make things difficult."

Wow. How does one respond to that? Generous just wasn't a big enough word for it. Davy was giving me the thumbs up for whatever my decision was.

"David, I don't want to choose between the two of you."

"No one is making you choose. But you will on your own, sooner or later."

I couldn't argue with that. One thing I knew for sure-these two guys were exceedingly rare. I doubted I'd find another two like them in a million lifetimes.

"You're going out with other girls." There... I'd said it. I'd been thinking about it for some time without being able to gather the courage to actually say it to Davy.

"And you're kissing Peter."

Well, he sure knew how to shut me up, didn't he?

The next thing I knew, David was holding me close.

"I've been going through hell, sleeping in the same room with you and not being able to make love to you," he breathed. "Do you think we can somehow arrange a time to be alone together before I go to England?"

Oh, I can't tell you how dirty I felt. Soiled. Even though what Davy and I had shared was far from dirty, here I was, just an hour ago, spending time with, and thinking about making love to Peter! And now Davy was asking to make love to me again.

"I feel very guilty. Caring so much for both of you. Making love with you, and kissing Peter, and wanting more...with Peter."

"Don't forget I'm the one who suggested it."

"Yes, but that doesn't help. I feel cheap...almost promiscuous."

"You and I both know that's not true. You're torn. And remember-no one is forcing you to do anything. You'll have plenty of time to decide about... intimacy with Peter when I'm gone."

"Does Peter know that you know about me kissing him?"

"Let's just say that Peter and I are so close that he knows he can't hide things from me. Sometimes things between us go unsaid, but they're understood just the same."

"I'd love to be alone with you again, Davy, but I don't know when or where."

"I wouldn't feel right about a motel," he said thoughtfully.

"Neither would I."

"And with three other people living at the pad, there's really no time we could be sure of being home alone."

This made me think about the day Mike had caught Peter and I in the bedroom, and I felt my cheeks getting warm.

"I'm going to run something by you, and if you don't like it, just tell me. The beach... its still warm at night, and we could go a little distance... at night, bring a couple good sized blankets with us..."

Making love on the beach had been a fantasy of mine for years, but I'd never done it, and never told anyone about it. I couldn't believe David was asking me to fulfill my fantasy with him!

"What if we were discovered by someone? I mean anyone... not just one of the other Monkees."

"That's always a possibility, but isn't the risk just a little exciting to you?" Somehow I would have more expected something like this coming from Peter. David seemed to be the more conservative of the two. So hearing it come from him was almost shocking.

"Yes, the thought is exciting, now that you mention it."

"Let me know when you want to."

He gave me one good, long kiss, and we drove back to the pad.

The very next evening Peter joined me at the foot of the stairs. It was almost as if he and David were taking turns. But in remembering what David had said the night before, it was possible they were communicating without talking to each other, since Micky and Mike were also at home. Perhaps, like David had said, things were understood between them without anything verbal being necessary. I wondered if they accomplished it through eye contact. I also wondered if they weren't trying to give each other a fair shake. If so, that would be a rare, unselfish kind of love.

The moment Peter sat down, I felt that familiar ache inside my belly that screamed desire. Passion just oozed off Peter, and I wanted to sample it. I just had a feeling, from the way he kissed, that he'd be a wild lover. Wild, but gentle. Thinking about it had occupied too much of my idle time lately. In fact, it had occupied most of my idle time.

He didn't ask me about the night before, when David had taken me out in the Monkeemobile. He didn't even mention it at all.

"What more can we find out about each other tonight?"

At first his words didn't make sense to me, but then I remembered how I'd suggested learning more about each other. I liked the fact that he wanted this exploration to continue.

"Well, what is your favorite animal?" No telling what his answer might be.

"Tiger." I almost laughed out loud. A tiger was very fitting-the way he kissed reminded me of a tiger stalking and then pouncing. Even down to the way he growled when aroused.

"What's yours?"

"Its too hard to pin it down to just one. Turtle, frog, unicorn all come to mind. "

"Unicorns are fantasy."

"Yes, but it wasn't specified if it had to be a real animal or not."

Peter looked satisfied with that answer.

"What's your favorite thing to do when you're alone?" He was really warming up to this game.

"That's easy-read or fantasize."

"The reading I've seen you do plenty of, but the fantasizing? What about?"

"Romance, almost always." I was watching him carefully to see his reaction. His eyes were brown, but it could have been because it was dusk and there was little in the way of lighting. I think that was the only reason I'd had the nerve to even mention fantasizing-in the bright light of day I would not have ventured into that.

"Romance, as in what?" Peter was thorough in his questioning, but I found that very attractive.

"Kissing, holding, snuggling." I wanted to say 'and making love' too, but couldn't get myself to say the words.

"Don't forget hugging," he reminded me.

"Speaking of hugs, you give the best hugs in the world, did you know that, Peter?"

"Only to those who mean a lot to me," was his answer.

I got a flashback just then of how he and Davy had hugged when he'd gotten back from visiting his parents. It was much how he hugged me. There was something not far under the surface between Peter and Davy, and as of yet I hadn't quite figured it out. There was a deep bond-I knew that much, as it was apparent... but there was something else too. Whatever it was, it was very special.

Although I could sense very strongly that Peter wanted to kiss me, I also knew he wouldn't do it at the bottom of the steps. He probably wouldn't have done it anyway, no matter where we were unless I'd expressed an interest, and made the first move. I hoped that, in time, that would change, and my Peter would become more secure with me.

I dreamed that night of making love to David on the beach. Dreams can be so mystifying, and I was caught unaware even in the dream of what would happen next. One moment David and I were kissing, naked, with two big beach towels, one over and one under us, and the next moment, David turned into Peter. The two of them were one. There was only one body, but their faces kept swapping until I no longer knew who I was kissing. But I clung to them, begged for more, and I had an orgasm in my sleep. I woke up in a cold sweat.

When I finally went back to sleep, I dreamed I was riding a unicorn and that Peter was riding behind me. The unicorn got out of control at one point, and suddenly David appeared, jumping on in front of me, and effortlessly bringing the animal back to a gentle, compliant mount. I also dreamed there was a chariot, and Davy was driving the equines, which turned out to be zebras. They were running at breakneck speed, and barely in control, but David never lost his cool. His hands on the reins were steady, and I had complete confidence in his ability to guide them.

When you hear hoofbeats, what's the first thing you look for? Horses. NOT zebras. I had heard that somewhere, long ago. I knew it had a significance in my dream, but I couldn't decipher it.

I had no clue what these dreams meant. But I knew one thing for sure-I dared not mention them to either David or Peter. I had no idea what kind of reaction I might get.

David and I made love on the beach a week later. I had mentioned to him that I wanted his wish to become a reality, and after all, there was only one week left until he would be off to England, so we made plans to disappear, one at a time; first Davy would leave around dusk, and we would make it appear as if we were going different places. I hated deceiving Peter and the others, but there was no other way.

Davy had the beach towels in the trunk of the Monkeemobile, and he slipped out about an hour before I did, to try to avoid attracting attention from the other guys. I was nervous almost to the point of wringing my hands, afraid Peter would catch on.

At the appointed time, I made a comment about going over to see a fellow employee for a couple of hours. I felt Peter's eyes on me. Somehow I knew he knew.

I practically ran out the door, and when I found Davy on the beach at our agreed upon location, I told him that I thought Peter suspected something.

"If I was worried about Peter, I wouldn't have asked you to come out here."

"But I don't want to hurt him."

"Neither do I, not for the world. And believe me when I tell you he's alright."

I had to take Davy's word for it. He knew Peter better and longer than I had. And judging from what I'd seen pass between them, I knew in my heart that David would avoid hurting Peter at any cost.

The night was perfect-in the high 60s, and with a towel over and under us (which reminded me of my dream) I felt very comfortable. Even naked. Knowing David would be gone in another week, I couldn't wait to get some more of his loving to carry me over. And it wasn't long in coming.

He shed his clothes faster than I thought he was capable of, and then he took mine off too. It was very dark, the sound of the ocean waves lent a sensual quality. There were no people around, but David had been right when he'd hinted about the thrill of the risk of getting caught. It added even more excitement than what I was already feeling.

There was a half moon-just enough light for me to make out Davy's eyes. Even in the near darkness, they sparkled. I'd never seen that breed of light in anyone else's eyes. It was part of his mystique. We were wrapped all around each other in a matter of less than a minute after our clothes were off. I felt his insistent throbbing against me and knew he was going to be over eager again.

I put my hand on his cheek, and it was baby soft-so unlike Peter's beard stubble, that appeared with regularity about 10 hours after he shaved.

This time I wanted to make Davy feel as good as he'd made me feel. Our foreplay lasted only a short time. Davy was mildly aggressive. He was more than ready and willing, and in the process of trying climbing on top of me when I pushed him back. I saw the confusion flash in his eyes.

There he was, on his back, staring up and me, and I began rubbing his erection up and down with my hand. His eyes grew wide, not expecting this. I tongued my way down his belly and just barely touched his penis with the tip of my tongue. I thought he'd jump out of his skin. Then I looked up at him. He chewed his bottom lip, something he had done the first day I'd met him. It meant he was processing what my plans might be.

"Oou," he said, that cute noise he occasionally made when something unusual happened. I gave him no time to accustom himself to what was happening. I just suddenly sucked him down to the base with no warning. I wanted to find out what kind of reaction I would get. A long, low moan told me he was loving it. Otherwise, he was silent. After a few minutes of this treatment, he was starting to tense up, and I could feel the increased hardening of his shaft and the tightening of his testicles, and knew he was close to orgasm. So I then climbed on top of him and lowered myself, inch by inch down onto his erection.

I moved slowly at first, then faster. He pulled my torso down onto his chest and kissed me, starting to buck underneath me. He gave me more tongue than he ever had before. I felt his excitement from deep within, and then he exploded. It was over that quickly.

It felt fantastic, except that it had all happened so fast that I hardly realized it was already over. I wondered if he were always that quick. There was sand all over both of us, in our hair, as the towel had bunched up underneath us. I thought I felt something crawling on me, and was afraid to find out what it was.

"Well, this could have been a bit more romantic," Davy commented.

"It does tend to be a little better in bed," I agreed.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

The day had arrived that David was to fly to England. The time had passed so quickly that we'd only shared a few more kisses, since we were rarely alone. I'd kissed Peter a few more times too, and felt much closer to him than I had before we'd played our little 'getting to know you' games. Peter had even held my hand a couple of times, a first for the two of us.

All of us went to the airport to see David off. As he was ready to board, Mike and Micky shook his hand warmly, pounding him on the back at the same time. Typical guy stuff. When he and Peter said goodbye, there was a charge to the atmosphere. They shared a hug that lasted a bit longer than it should have. If he'd hugged them all, it wouldn't have been quite so obvious. Peter was giving Davy one of his famous bearholds. Peter's eyes shone with unshed tears, and Davy's normally sparkling eyes looked a bit too sparkly. Micky and Michael showed no reaction, which I thought curious.

When I hugged him, David whispered in my ear, "You take good care of Peter for me." Later, I was to learn he'd said the same thing to Peter about me. He hugged me harder than he ever had before, kissed my cheek, and then disappeared down the hallway to his plane. I felt a couple of tears escape down my cheeks, and Peter put his arm around me comfortingly. We all acted as if David would be gone two months or two years instead of two weeks, and we half heartedly joked about it on the way home. But one thing was for sure-jokes or not, it was clear we were all going to miss him.

It was late when we got home from the airport. After a full day of work, then taking Davy to meet his plane, we were all dead tired by the time we walked in the door. We ate leftovers from the night before, and all of us retired right after that.

As Peter closed the bedroom door behind us, I got that all too familiar fluttering in my belly, knowing we were all alone, and would be for the next two weeks. Just watching Peter close the door-and the rest of the world out- had a strangely exciting effect on me. Sort of, Peter taking charge, I guess.

I didn't know if anything would happen between Peter and myself in the time David was gone. Even though I desired Peter so much that it hurt, I would not be intimate with him unless the feeling and the circumstances were just right. I knew myself enough to acknowledge that. One thing I knew for sure is that nothing would happen the first night David was gone. Somehow, that would seem disrespectful to David, even though he'd urged me to discover my feelings for Peter on a personal level.

After dressing for bed, Peter started to settle into his hammock.

"Why don't you sleep in David's bed while he's gone? Wouldn't it be a nice change from your hammock?"

"Yeah, I suppose it would." Peter turned down Davy's sheets. "Davy's so meticulous. Even though you wash all the sheets once a week, he feels he has to do his twice, even though I've rarely even seen him sweat," remarked Peter.

He was right. Davy was the same way about his person and his clothes as he was his sheets.

Peter drew a deep breath through his nose. "The sheets smell good too. Like David." I realized he enjoyed David's clean scent as much as I did. Now this I really questioned. A man enjoying another man's scent? This was, indeed, unusual.

"You sure are fond of him, aren't you?" I asked, trying to sound as casual as I could, yet staying alert to see if I could get any more information. My curiosity was really piqued now. Could it be Peter, like me, also had a crush on Davy?

"Yes, I am." Well, I guess that was all I was going to get out of him. I'd never seen the two of them show any gay tendencies, except for the long lasting hug at the airport. And even that was debatable. All the Monkees did the smacks on the butt and the sitting close together, not minding body contact at all. If something strange were going on, I would think I would have seen something suspicious by now. But even so, if they were gay, why were they both seemingly interested in me?

"Sure feels weird with Davy gone," I said.

"Yeah, I hate it when he's gone." Peter's voice sounded so hollow as he said it. "He leaves an empty space." That certainly summed it up.

After a period of silence, we both drifted off to sleep. It had been a very long day.

Davy called the next evening to let us all know he had arrived safely and was at his dad's house, seeing family and enjoying himself, although he also mentioned he was eager to get back home. I felt sorry for him deep in my heart, as I could tell his friends meant nearly as much to him as his family. He was very sweet to me on the phone, and I noticed he talked to Peter longer than he talked to Micky and Mike. I wondered what he was saying.

On the third night, Peter caught me unaware. As we said good night and were preparing to slip into bed, he said something that I never would have expected.

"Uh, Kerri?"

"Yes, Peter?"

"Would it be... would it be... out of line... for me to ask... for a... goodnight kiss?"

That question had cost him a lot. I think he was actually holding his breath, awaiting my answer.

My heart contracted with warmth. I hadn't thought it would happen quite this soon. We were still far from a cure, but Peter had just shown me he was becoming more trustful of me, less fearful of rejection. Discouraging him at this state wouldn't be wise. But I also didn't want to kiss him in my bed, as that would be too tempting for the both of us, and I wasn't ready for anything more than a kiss to happen yet.

So I went to his bed, (rather, Davy's bed) where I'd have more control of the situation. I'd be able to leave if needed. Although, I was more worried about controlling myself than him.

"I'd love a goodnight kiss," I said, sitting down on the bed. He followed my lead and sat down beside me.

I had a strong suspicion Peter had been rejected more than his share in the past. The problem certainly wasn't a lack of attractiveness. It was just that most women wait for men to make the first move, and Peter lacked the confidence to do that. And that turned a lot of women off. The more aggressive men usually got the women. It went back to the beginning of time. Something must have happened earlier in his life, when he was first discovering the opposite sex, for him to become unsure of himself. Maybe he'd been cruelly teased about his shyness. His sensitive nature had probably only added to the problem.

As for me personally, his shyness really aroused me. I wanted to help him gain the confidence he needed. I wanted to see the real Peter that he had hidden inside because of a basic desire to protect himself.

"Do you think I'd turn your kisses down?" I said softly, burying my hands in his hair and rubbing the back of his neck lightly with both my hands, desire lazily snaking through me. He gasped softly, but he was making no move, as was usual at first, so I began kissing his neck and then his cheek, knowing he needed a boost. It had never failed to work so far.

I was getting to know him well, and just as I predicted, he turned his head to capture my lips with his own. I was amazed at how he affected me each time he kissed me. Desire blazed anew each and every time. Each time felt like the first time.

Peter was hungry-very, very hungry. I could tell immediately from little signs and actions that were impossible for him to keep hidden away from me. Things were becoming instinctual between us. I loved it. His quickened breathing, the way he clamped onto my hand with his own, as if he were afraid of this not being real, and needing confirmation that it was, the way his chest trembled every time he exhaled.

The kiss at first was so sweet, light and soft, and like always, when I melted into him and sighed to show him how much I wanted it, he came alive. Slowly yet surely, his kisses became more daring, his arms around me encouraged me ever closer, and then he was kissing me deeply, devouring my mouth. Encouraging me to open mine. Then his tongue rubbed tentatively and gently against mine, then underneath mine, tickling and caressing.

Considering his shyness, I wondered yet again how he got to be such an expert kisser. Unless it just came to him naturally. I didn't want to stop kissing him, yet Peter never tried to push me any further. That was another thing about him I found so endearing. He just accepted whatever I wanted, and kept giving me more. And more. . .

The pulsing I felt down below became a steady thrumming, making me feel engorged, more than ready for him. And just from a kiss! This hadn't happened quite so urgently and insistently with anyone else.

We must have kissed for 10 minutes with hardly a pause or two in that entire time. I knew I couldn't take much more without practically raping him, so I pulled away from him with the last of my strength. It took everything I had to break the contact.

"You're way, way too tempting!" I said, so he wouldn't think I was rejecting him.

"I'd better get back in my own bed while you're still safe." I smiled, and he smiled back, that damn adorable dimple beckoning me to come back. I had to look away for fear I'd fall into his arms again.

Needless to say, sleep was again a very long time in coming. This was getting old. . .

I threw the tennis ball with all my strength, and it bounced off the back wall, missing the bottles by at least four inches. I sighed and smiled back at Peter, who was standing directly behind me, so close he was almost touching me. I had an urge to back into him, feel his body up against mine. I mentally shook off the image.

"I'm just not cut out for this." We were at the local fair. Peter had asked me if I wanted to go with him, and I'd jumped at the chance. I just knew Peter would be a blast at the fair. My suspicion had been right.

"That's alright. I think a few rides might be more to your liking." He was right. I clutched the teddy bear he'd won for me at the ring toss and he offered his hand to me on the way to the ferris wheel. My heart soared. He was gaining confidence steadily. I caught a few envious glances from other women, and I felt I must be beaming with the warmth I felt inside.

I was afraid of heights, but with Peter beside me, it wasn't so bad. Not until we started going up. Then I started to tremble, and instinctively grabbed for Peter. We were sitting very close to begin with, but I ended up practically in his lap.

When the ferris wheel stopped at the top, it rocked just a bit with the breeze, and I clung to Peter for dear life. He put his arm around me and squeezed.

"Don't rock it, please don't rock it!"

Peter's low, reassuring words in my ear finally succeeded in getting me to relax a bit, and by the end of the ride I was almost enjoying it. And suddenly acutely aware of how our bodies were pressed up against each other.

When we got off the ride, Peter asked why I was so afraid.

"When I was a teen, a boy I rode one with once started to rock it, and he thought it was funny when I was afraid. He just laughed and rocked it harder. I thought for sure I was going to fall out. This is the first time I've been on a ferris wheel since then."

Peter shook his head. "I'd never do that to you."

"I know, and I trust you. That's why I went on that ride with you."

This elicited a big, dimpled smile from Peter. He took my hand again-and this delighted me.

Next we went on a roller coaster. It was much the same. I was alright when it was going slower, but when it started to climb and gain speed, we seemed to be so much higher up than it had looked when observed from the ground. Again, I clung to Peter, screaming when we went around tight turns at a high rate of speed. He put one arm tightly around me, and hung onto the bar in front of us with the other. I don't know how he kept us from being thrown around the car, as the seatbelts seemed to do little more than nothing, but he somehow held us steady. He chuckled quietly a few times, but not making fun of me, just enjoying the nearness, I think. Held me and crooned to me quietly. If I hadn't been so frightened, I would have been craving more from him.

We held hands for the rest of the day.

There was a miniature circus there, and one clown kept slipping on a banana peel. Every time he did, Peter threw his head back and laughed with abandon. He was so adorable those strong surges of desire for him came creeping back.

Later we ate corn dogs and cotton candy. We stayed at the fair, looking at exhibits after that, until after dark. In looking at the livestock, the horses reminded us both of Davy, since he loved to ride and had been a jockey apprentice in England.

"He might be riding right now," Peter commented, a far-away look in his eyes, as if he could see Davy riding somewhere in his mind, and at the same time, reaching for my hand and intertwining our fingers together.

"Yeah, he might." The picture in my mind of Davy on a horse was very appealing.

We stopped at a restaurant for dinner before heading home. Peter surprised me again by sitting on the same side of the booth with me. He just slid right in next to me, as if we did it all the time. Except when we were eating, his arm stayed on the top of the booth seat, touching and rubbing my shoulder and arm lightly with his fingers. I made sure our bodies never lost contact the entire time we were there.

"I had the most spectacular time today, Peter," I said.

"So did I, Kerri. Mainly... because... I was with you." He averted his eyes. There was that bashful side of him again.

Back home, I fixed myself and Peter a cup of hot cocoa, as the days were starting to cool considerably, and fall was almost upon us. I felt it was a nice, cozy way to end a perfect day. Peter was as pleased as if I'd given him an expensive gift.

Micky was on the couch, making out with his girlfriend, so Peter and I, sharing a knowing look, carefully walked around them and took our cocoa upstairs.

"Where's Mike?" I asked.

"On the phone with David."

"Oh, shouldn't we talk to him?"

"No, Mike signaled me that he'd told David we were still at the fair. I think Mike figured we were too tired to talk. He'll be calling again in a couple of days anyway. Unless you want to talk to him...?"

Generous Peter was willing to share me with David. Wasn't that just like him?

"No, we're already up here with our cocoa. I'll be sure to talk to him next time he calls though. Boy, you guys sure communicate a lot without talking!" I'd seen all four of them communicate just on looks or hand gestures, often finishing each other's sentences, and I'd tried to join in, but just couldn't get it down. They worked together as if they'd been a team their entire lives.

Peter was on Davy's bed, licking the whipped cream off the top of his cocoa, and I couldn't take my eyes off him. It was disturbing me, albeit in a very good way. I began to lick my whipped cream too, watching Peter out of the corner of my eye, and it was clear he was watching. His eyes were glued to me. I found the whole thing a bit amusing. Humans could be such sexual creatures and find suggestiveness even in the simplest of situations.

After the cocoa was gone and our tummies were full and warm, I complained of being cold. Now, I wasn't kidding myself... at least I could admit (although only to myself) that I was doing it on purpose. Our day at the fair today had touched me deeply. I'd felt so close to Peter in every way. I wanted more closeness-of the physical variety. The teddy bear sitting beside me that he had won for me wasn't quite enough, even though I hugged and snuggled it. That made Peter smile.

"I just can't seem to get warm." I knew David's bed had a heated blanket, and Peter's didn't at the moment. It happened to be in the wash, which was a great advantage for me right now. I played it for all it was forth.

Peter didn't get it. "Want another blanket?"

"No!" I cried in exasperation. "I want you to warm me up!"

Peter's face lit up. "Why didn't you just say so?" he said in a low, teasing tone of voice, as he slipped out of Davy's bed and onto his own in two seconds flat. He gently placed the teddy bear on my nightstand.

Unlike Davy, he didn't subtly ask the silent question with his eyes about getting between the sheets. He just stayed on top, wrapping his arms around me, trying to warm me. Peter really believed me that I was cold. I didn't think my hint had been exactly subtle. I made a mental note to teach him about feminine wiles sometime. He was going to have to learn how to decipher certain signals that a woman sends out.

"Come here," I said, lifting up the sheets and impatiently pulling him underneath with me. If that's what it took, I was going to take it.

"I was hoping," he said softly, pulling me into him.

CHAPTER TWELVE

Ahhh. . . so he'd gotten the hint after all. Desire was threatening to overtake me. Being in bed with Peter was completely different than it had been with David. Peter was bursting at the seams with affection. Not that David wasn't, but Peter positively oozed affection, it overflowed, and he seemed to need it as badly as I did. He was currently busy kissing my temple.

"Did you happen to do that when I had a migraine?" I suddenly remembered that day.

"Yeah, I thought you were asleep. Sorry. Couldn't help myself."

"It was very sweet. I wasn't sure if it was real or not."

"I'd kiss you all the time if I could."

My heart contracted. "But you can't," I said, a bit sadly.

"Yeah, the no hanky panky rule."

"I do feel really bad about it, too."

He nodded. "I wish there was something we could do about it. I mean... I don't want Mike and Micky angry with us."

Oh, if Peter only knew how I agonized about that very thing.

In adusting the covers, I leaned over him, lost my balance, and the hand that was supporting me gave out. I landed on top of Peter. Perfect timing. He'd been trying to help me, so he'd raised himself up just a bit, and our faces collided. Not hard enough to hurt, but close enough to reach each other's lips and run with it.

Nothing else existed but the two of us and our mouths. Deep and searching. Everything else seemed to dissipate into nothingness. He went at me like the tiger he wanted to be if he were an animal-but by the same token, he was more like a tiger cub than an adult-at least in the way he handled me. Gentle and playful, but with plenty of rough edges. There was that underlying predator nonetheless, just waiting to come out. The predator that was as natural as life itself. I could subdue him at the drop of a hat, but given active encouragement, he was nearly voracious.

His passion, as always, astonished me. No matter how many times I kissed him, he was always the same, barely leashed, and I felt as if he were going to break that leash at any moment. I just wrapped my arms around his neck and held on for the ride. And a wild ride it was.

When the kisses became frenzied, I knew my life would be touched in some way tonight. Peter's too, I hoped. One thing I didn't want it to happen was for it to be harmful or hurtful to anyone. It could end up bittersweet easily enough. I wanted to avoid the bitter part. At any rate, David was going to get his wish. With any luck, I might discover the real Peter underneath it all tonight. I had a suspicion I was starting to uncover a Peter the outside world knew nothing about.

Peter abruptly hauled himself out of bed with what seemed to be a herculean effort. What in hell was he doing at a time like this? My frustration went right through the ceiling. He switched off the light so that only the soft glow of the nightlight remained. Oh, well. That was okay.

Then he practically pounced on me again, mouth working mine, tongue going wild, practically gasping for breath.

"Whoa, Peter!" I placed my hand in the middle of his chest and pushed him off me. This was going to get tricky.

"I'm sorry. .. I tend to get a bit. . . carried away. . . " he trailed off. Just how long had it been? I thought. He was positively panting.

"Oh, my sweet... calm down. We have plenty of time. There's no rush at all." I caressed his face softly as I said it, trying to tone down his flame a bit.

" Believe me, I want you too. But we need to go much slower. If you keep coming at me like this, you'll kill me!"

"Never!" he said vehemently. "I may get carried away, but hurt you, never!"

"It was just a figure of speech. If I had any fear of you hurting me, I wouldn't have invited you into bed. But Peter, you're acting frantic. You don't want it to be like that, do you? I know how soft and sweet you really are, but your eagerness,-good god. Its a good thing I know you as well as I do, you would have really frightened me."

Then I painstakingly, lovingly, manipulated him down on his back, and stroked his face, smoothing back his hair, sweet talking him until his tension started to abate and I felt his muscles begin to loosen. This took quite a while.

"That might be one reason I don't have good luck with girls."

I could just see it in my mind's eye. If he came on to someone else like he just did with me, someone who didn't know about his gentleness, his heart of gold like I did, they would run for the hills, and not look back.

"Let's just start by talking and touching each other, slowly and tenderly," I suggested.

And that's just what we did. We didn't kiss for a while. I knew all too well that Peter's kisses were absolutely lethal. When he kissed me I became nearly helpless. I had to be extra careful I didn't yield to his sweet poison too soon. The Spider and the Fly came to mind, but then I remembered about thinking I was the fly caught in Davy's web, and right now, Peter was the only one I needed to be thinking about.

I had a strategy-something I hoped would make things easier for both of us. I encouraged Peter to relax and get as comfortable as possible. And slowly, as we talked quietly, I saw that he was beginning to unwind and check his frantic need, at least somewhat.

He stretched out beside me, and I helped him take his pajama top off, telling him I wanted to get closer to his warm skin. I was going to show him that being intimate with someone doesn't mean you need to behave like a wild animal in rutting season. I was careful not to stimulate him in any way just yet. He needed to learn when to govern himself.

Being a natural pleaser, he threw himself fully into what I had asked of him, making a substantial effort to rein his desire in. Stretched out on his back, he folded his hands behind his head. He looked too sexy for words. What a striking difference he was to Davy's dark good looks. I took in his blonde hair that fell into his eyes all the time, wondering if it didn't ever annoy him. But I supposed he was so used to flipping his head that it was as automatic as his ever present smile. I found the habit adorable, even more so when he was playing his bass. The hair on his chest was light brown, with a bit of a reddish tint. Quite a contrast to Davy's nearly hairless chest. The hair under his arms was thick and full, unlike Davy's scant, fine hair. I ran my hand over it, delighting in its soft, silky feel. His sharp intake of breath reminded me to be cautious and tread lightly.

His scent was also different from Davy's-rich, earthy and masculine without being the least offensive. In fact, his aroma was intoxicating. I wanted to pull it into my lungs deeply, as he had done to Davy's sheets.

We talked about a variety of subjects, mainly to give him time to navigate back from his urgent state, return to his senses.

Once he had quieted and his breathing was back to normal, I touched him. Just a finger running down his side elicted a gasp. This filled me with anticipation. If he was that sensitive... he was bound to be a sensational lover. Probably needed a little fine tuning, but with that brand of passion being present to begin with... oh, the possibilities. Just the thought was... so tantalizing.

I couldn't, however, expect him to keep himself under control forever. It would be going against nature. The urge was as old as time itself, and could only be suppressed for so long before something gave.

"Ahh, Peter. I suspect you're a little uncivilized."

"You can't mean that as a compliment...?"

"All that unbridled passion-yes... a compliment. Its... really exciting."

"I do need to talk to you, though. Seriously." I had made up my mind that he needed to understand about Davy and myself before anything intimate happened between us.

"I haven't been completely honest with you. In fact... I've left out a lot when it comes to David."

Peter reacted completely differently than I would have expected. He didn't get nervous or fidget or even look particularly concerned. Just curious interest showed in his face. Come to think of it, his expression was similar to David's when he'd seen Peter brushing my hair.

"Okay," was all he said, as he waited for me to continue.

I took a deep breath, attempting to bolster my courage. It had to be done, hard as it was.

"When I told you there wasn't anything serious between David and myself, that wasn't completely true. I feel strongly for him. Not only that, but recently we slept together."

Quiet acceptance was the feeling I got. "When I was at my parents' house," said Peter calmly.

"Yes."

"Is that all?" Is that all? What kind of reaction was THAT?

"Well, I think that's pretty significant." I was so relieved not to see the crushed look on his face that I had more than half expected.

"Why such a neutral reaction?" I asked.

"I've seen things-not obvious things, but things. And then there's that silent communication that David and I have. So I guess I can safely say I more or less put things together."

There it was again. Silent communication. David had mentioned it, and now Peter had too. "Sometimes things are unsaid between us, but understood just the same" is how Davy had put it.

"And that doesn't make you feel uncomfortable, here with me now?"

"No... I know how David is thinking. He knows I feel something for you. He isn't doing anything to try to keep you away from me. No warnings, no threats. You have to understand David, Kerri. I can't explain it. He's a good person. He wants what's best for all of us."

"That's more or less what he said about you," I said, flabbergasted.

"But what about me personally?" I went on. "Don't you feel uncomfortable with me now that you know?"

"No. I knew you would tell me in your own time."

I shook my head in disbelief. "You two are so unselfish. You aren't at all like most guys. I'm not quite done yet though... He also knows you and I kissed. And that's still not all. . . "

That last part was going to be the most difficult for me to say.

"No problem. Shoot," said Peter, smiling at me.

"He told me I should sleep with you." I couldn't look at him when I said it. I looked at the ceiling, the door frame, wherever my eyes would go, just so Peter's face wouldn't come into focus. I was ashamed and embarrassed, and much more than that... tortured would be a closer description to how I felt.

"Why?"

I had a strong feeling Peter already knew why. Hell, he already seemed to know everything else I'd told him.

"To find out. . . to find out how I felt about you on all levels." That seemed the easiest way for me to say it. Without putting it crudely.

"David is giving you savvy advice. I do agree with him...I would have done the same... but only you can decide what's right for you. Neither David or I would push you into anything you didn't feel right about. And I'm positive he knows that I know the whole story. If he weren't sure that I knew, he would have told me himself."

That shocked me. Them... talking about me behind my back? Like I was just another of their groupies who liked to follow musicians around?

"When we talk about you, its never in a derogatory way," he said as if in answer to my silent question. "Its always respectful. But, to be truthful, we haven't had to talk about you much-most of it is through looks and silent communication, as I said before. There's a reason we aren't both around you at certain times. We each know the other needs time alone with you. There's more, but its better left for another time."

He was right-this was more than enough for me to take in for now. I did look forward to hearing the rest of the story whenever he chose to tell me. Looking back, some things were starting to fit together. Now the fact that one of them would sometimes just fade into the background when walking on the beach was starting to make sense to me. The way one would watch on with mild curiousity and interest and no trace of resentment when I interacted with the other still had me mystified though. I still wondered why neither one of them showed much jealousy. Half hearted jealousy, maybe, but somehow I got the feeling that was mostly for show.

I had wanted things to just happen between Peter and I-didn't want to analyze anything, or reveal any intentions for tonight, so our conversation, while it was essential, put a damper on things, at least for me. I had accomplished what was most important for the present moment- gotten everything out in the open-that had been essential. And he'd told me things too that really had me thinking about the inner workings of his mind and Davy's. But I didn't feel that, at this point, tonight would be ideal for anything else.

I explained to Peter that I needed to return to my bed to try to process everything that had been said tonight. He silently accepted it, with no objections or arguments. No trying to sway me into reconsidering, although I knew his need was pressing. He understood, or at least he gave me that impression. There was disappointment on his face, yes... but he also realized everything had to fit perfectly in place, and that was worth waiting for.

Best not to look temptation in the eye. Getting out of the bed and returning to my own was perhaps one of the hardest things I'd ever done, but it was the right thing. I knew I'd be glad I'd done it this way later on.

Walking on the beach was becoming colder all the time. We Southern Californians thought anything below 45 degrees to be unbearable. So Peter and I did still walk on the beach at night and on weekends, but we had to bundle up.

One night we went to our first movie. This was just a few days after our conversation the night I'd returned to my bed. We'd spoken to Davy on the phone earlier, and he had sounded homesick yet cheerful. Hearing his voice nearly brought tears to my eyes.

I wish Davy was here was a common theme around the pad. Even Mike and Micky seemed to be moping a bit. Mike would want a third opinion after he and Peter had discussed a song Mike was writing, Micky would come home excited about something, and Davy was always the most willing to listen, however long it took for Micky to run out of steam. The others ran out of patience much more quickly and their attention would start to wander. Peter just plain liked hanging out with Davy, no matter what they were doing; and me too, I had to admit. Things just were not the same-not complete without Davy.

The movie was a sit com, very uplifting and funny. Peter held my hand almost the entire time, and when he wasn't doing that, he had his arm around me. I tantalized him a bit, I must admit, by running my fingers lightly up and down his arm that was nearest me. I'd learned that this treatment got him fired up from that night I'd done it along his sides... the night he'd become so amorous, and I'd had to turn everything off-treating him as if he were a light switch.

When we got home that night, and up to the bedroom, he said, "Ready to hear the other stuff yet, or do you want to wait until David gets home?" I had been wondering when he would bring it up again, but had decided to leave it solely up to him as to when he wanted to reveal the "there's more" that he had referred to on that night in question.

"Well, which do you think would be best?"

"I've been thinking about it a lot lately, and I think it really would be best to wait for David. Not that I'm trying to get out of it or anything. Its just that I think he would prefer to be there. I don't want to be unfair by not including him."

"I have no idea what you want to tell me, Peter. And frankly, its got me more than a little curious... Its nothing bad, is it? Can you tell me that much?"

"Well, I don't think its bad at all. Neither does David. But as for you... I have no idea what you'll think... I wouldn't even hazard a guess. Could be very good, could be very bad."

For a fleeting moment, I thought of how friendly the two of them were together. Could it have anything to do with that? But then, that was so far fetched that I put the idea right out of my mind. Had they possibly been bringing girls home and passing them around before I'd come into their lives? Or even having orgies or something along those lines? That was the only thing I could think of that it might possibly be. But then, I knew Peter was way too shy for that kind of behavior. And I just couldn't picture it, anyway. Davy and Peter in that setting? No, it couldn't be. As much as I was dying to know, I'd just have to wait another week until Davy came home.

"Peter? Are you upset about what happened between me and Davy? You haven't really said anything about it. You haven't addressed it at all, in fact. Your feelings about it, I mean."

"No, I'm not upset. The way things were going, I knew it might happen sooner or later. But like I said, David is a good person."

I was still confounded. Here he was, clearly interested in me, yet not upset that I'd slept with his best friend? And his only answer being that David was a good person? I just shook my head. I was so weary mentally, trying to figure out what it all meant.

That night, after we said good night, gave each other a peck on the cheek, turned off the light and went to bed, I suddenly knew the time was right. . .

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

My silent resolve carried me from my bed into Peter's (technically Davy's) bed. It took all the nerve I had. I literally had to force one foot in front of the other. I had nothing on under my robe, purposely. I didn't know if anything would happen, but just in case, I was prepared.

I spied Peter's bare torso, as the sheet was pulled up only halfway. He'd taken to sleeping without a pajama top often during the summer and he still wasn't cool enough at night yet to put it back on.

"Peter.. " I said, barely over a whisper so as not to startle him. He jumped anyway, looked at me, his expression hidden by not quite enough light, then wordlessly lifted up the sheet in a silent invitation. I was glad to accept.

He was warm-oh, so warm. The room was chilly in my opinion, but heat radiated off him when I got within six inches of him. His warm, clean man smell rose from the bed, mingling with the smell of his soap and shampoo. Then the sight of him... His eyes showing dark in the dim light, the patch of hair on his chest, his hair shimmering golden in the moonlight that peeked into the room from the partly open shades. His lips-looking so inviting, his long fingers that so delicately and lovingly picked at his bass strings, keyboard, and various other instruments. I took it all in.

"You have moonbeams shining on you," I said softly.

Those long fingers reached up and smoothed my cheek so very softly. It felt so wholly intimate. I moved closer to him. He seemed reluctant, timorous for a fraction of a second, and I had fleeting doubts about approaching him. But then he caved, and allowed me to mold myself up against him.

It was then that I realized why he had been hesitant-naked! He was not only missing his pajama top, but also the bottoms! At the same moment, I felt his penis come in contact with my belly.

I knew as sure as the ocean outside the bedroom window washed over the sand that he was blushing, but I couldn't tell in the moonlight.

"I'm sorry..." He sighed and ran his hand over his face in embarrassment. " I used to sleep without pajamas in the summer until you moved in. Lately I've been taking the bottoms off after we're in bed and the lights are out. Its just more comfortable for me," he added, as if to explain.

I knew for a fact that I was blushing, as my cheeks were red hot. "Its my fault, I came over here. And you have a right to sleep however you want."

"I was thinking about you, and that's how... that... happened."

I knew what he was referring to. His erection.

Amazing how embarrassed we both could still get, even with as much time as we'd spent together. Its just that we'd never discussed sex or openly, or really anything close to it. Not really. Just innuendos, or insinuations in a joking way, among the others, but even then, it was rare. The Monkees would tell sex jokes among themselves, but never when I was in the room.

I began touching Peter lightly, the way I knew he liked it, on his arms, chest, up and down his sides. His erection was still touching me now and then, since we were only inches apart, but I acted as if I didn't notice, and eventually he stopped worrying so much about it. At least he stopped flinching every time it happened.

When the kissing began, I sensed there would be no stopping tonight. Not unless something really serious or upsetting happened. Like say for instance, he decided to tell me what he'd been holding back telling me about, and it turned out to be something horrible. But somehow I knew Peter would tell me first-before this happened, if he had something bad enough to be life changing to tell me. The way I was feeling, short of admitting he were a murderer, I don't think much would have affected me at that point.

He remembered my tutoring about going slow and holding back, so as to enjoy more, although it was costing him dearly. He was trying so hard not to lose control that I almost felt sorry for him.

The grip he had on himself was tight, and he wouldn't loosen up. He kissed me with noticeable restraint, and I found that I much preferred the wilder, uninhibited side of him.

"Let yourself go, Peter. . . " I whispered. "Kiss me like you did before. You don't have to hold back with that, its just that we don't want to rush the rest." I hoped I'd been clear enough.

I guess I had, because, thank goodness, he did go back to the Peter I had kissed before. The Peter with the wild exuberance. Opening his lips, he did his crazy little dance with kissing that I loved. Working up from light, sweet, innocent kisses, to deeper, more meaninful kisses, and right on up to devouring kisses that he threw himself into with complete abandon. Before long, our tongues were rubbing together, Peter was moaning, and trying oh-so-hard not to rub his very hard, massive erection into my side.

Things got hotter and hotter, the longer we kissed. At one point I found myself sucking on his tongue. That almost put him through the ceiling. He was moaning as much as most men do when they are climaxing, and he was only kissing me! Oh... the wonderful things that were in store for me!

I sat up, took off my robe and slipped back under the sheets. The moment he felt my bare skin, he gasped. "Yes, I left my nightgown off on purpose tonight," I said breathlessly.

Without warning, Peter reached over suddenly and turned on Davy's reading lamp. The brightness blinded me temporarily, and I looked at him with squinted eyes. His face was deathly serious. Almost grim. Even with the light on, his eyes were brown, so I knew he had something important to say. Something that mattered a hell of a lot to him.

"Look at me." I'd never heard this tone of voice from him. Gentle, yet firm. Committed. I looked deep into his eyes. Unwaveringly, as I could sense he would accept no less.

"This is serious, Kerri. Do you want this? I need to know... If you're not 100 percent sure, tell me now."

"Yes, Peter, I want this. There's only one problem, and that's that I feel bad about David...even though he told me I had his blessing. But I want this."

"David is not a factor, because, as I have already hinted at, he is not a worry for me. Please trust me on that. Do you personally want it? If I thought it would hurt David if he knew, I wouldn't have you in bed with me."

He had thrown me again. If he thought David would be hurt if he knew? How could he know David wouldn't be hurt? Another puzzle, all along the same lines, but still bewildering.

"I personally want it. But I want it to be for the right reasons too." He understood my meaning.

"Trust me," he said. "I am not taking this lightly. I don't want anyone hurt, so we have to be careful, and make sure we know the impact what we're doing will have... on all three of us."

"Believe me, I don't take it lightly. And I trust you when you tell me we won't end up hurting David. That's saying a lot."

Holding the sheet up over my breasts, I reached out and turned the light off.

He clung to me, holding me tight, despite the intimacy of our lower bodies making contact. He was becoming more comfortable with it. He reached out and held my hand for a while, for security and/or closeness I supposed, and we just stared at each other in the near darkness, eyes inches away from each other. I was trying to convey to him how much this meant to me, how precious he was to me. He was afraid of hurt on more than one level. He was concerned for me, himself, and David. I saw all of it in his eyes. Peter was not after a one-night stand. There was nothing in him that was flippant or frivolous. And for some reason, he wasn't worried about David. . . that, above all else, still had me completely stumped, and the feeling was hard to shake.

But I knew I had to trust him. It was essential. It was either that, or wait until David returned to find out what Peter was holding back. What should I do?

I decided to go ahead. Here's to hoping everything would be on the table when David got back, and I mean everything. At the same time I feared I might be making a major mistake. And if that turned out to be so, there would be no going back. It couldn't be undone.

Peter and I did an interesting dance of approach and retreat. I felt it necessary to try to put him at ease. I'd slide the pads of my fingers up and down his spine for most of the length of his back, very lightly. His back would arch, and he'd groan. Then I'd stop and wait. Presently, he'd do the same thing to me. Then he would think of something, like tickling the back of my neck, and I would do the same to him. No words passed between us. There was no pressure in this little game that we played. That was what I loved most about it. Things could happen naturally, at their own pace and there were no demands or pressure of any kind.

In this way, I also felt I could keep Peter's tension to a bearable level. I wanted to give him the time I felt he needed to gain enough confidence to be comfortable with me. If this were to take half the night, or the entire night, then so be it.

The touches eventually lingered a little longer... lips started taking the place of fingers. Up and down my arms he kissed, my shoulders. He held me close now-enfolded me, and I felt protected against the world.

At last, there wasn't the overt urgency in his embrace. He was starting to let down and allow things to happen instead of pushing them to happen. Instead of rushing into it headlong.

That's when I felt his hand on my breast. Like a whisper, it was so tender. Barely there. Now I knew without the shadow of a doubt that he trusted me not to reject him. All this time and patience we had spent had not been in vain.

"Oh Peter..." I said, to reinforce his actions.

He explored gently, tentatively, but definitely moving forward. My nipples were tingling and stiff, awaiting more... his fingers found them and he rolled them ever so gently between his fingers. His ragged breathing eclipsed any other noise, including the low drone of the radio that we usually played all night.

The kissing started again, and he flipped me over so that I was on top of him so fluidly that I hardly noticed the motion. He held my face in his hands and looked into my eyes. I thought I would die right then, the sensations and emotions were so overpowering.

My breasts were pressed against his chest, and as his hands continued to caress, he brought them up under my arms, gently sliding me up, until my breasts were within reach of his mouth. That's when he let the passion boil over again. His tongue traced my nipple. causing me to moan out loud. When his mouth closed over it and began to suck, I thought I'd go mad with desire. His tongue worked as his mouth sucked, causing ribbons of electric ecstasy to knife through my body.

Unlike David, he didn't stop the stimulation and go on to something else. When he heard my cries of desire, he continued for a very long time. First one breast, then the other. I was worked up into such a frenzy that I could hardly breathe, let alone tell him how fantastic it felt. I could only utter wordless cries and moans.

What seemed an eternity later, he laid me back down on my back and began running his hand on my belly. The passion was again in full swing, and there was no way on God's green earth I was going to stop him or even slow him down. So gradually that I almost couldn't feel any progress, his hand reached my pubic area.

Peter was kissing me wildly while his hand went lower still, until he reached his goal. I was so wet that the sheets were in danger of flooding. I could tell right away he hadn't Davy's experience, as he was reaching and searching rather blindly, and his mad fit of passion made for even more difficulty.

So I assisted him, guiding his hand with mine. He gently spread my legs, then eagerly sought my entrance with his finger, and when he found it, inserted it so very carefully, as if he were afraid I would easily shatter. Questioningly, he probed a bit deeper, and finally, his finger was all the way in, and I was arching my back, begging for more. He was kissing my mouth, my breasts and neck in a frenzy, and I'd never felt such bliss. He pressed a second finger against me questioningly, and I encouraged him with an arching back and short gasps.

Now he had two fingers inside, and he began to move them slowly at first, and then more quickly. "My god, you're so wet!" He said it so quietly into my ear that I almost missed it. His voice was raspy sounding with need.

"Yes. . . for you, Peter. For you."

Encouraged, he slid his fingers in and out, and began kissing me, plunging his tongue in and out in time to his fingers. I nearly exploded. As he had done with my breasts, he continued this for a good while, and I know it was because he wanted more than anything to satisfy me. Every move he made confirmed that.

Next thing I knew, the sheets were at the bottom of the bed and he'd slid down considerably lower on the bed. He was kissing his way down to where his fingers played. When the tip of his tongue touched me there, I yelped. For some reason, I hadn't thought he would be knowledgeable enough, or maybe too embarrassed to attempt that on our first time.

Once he got himself positioned between my legs, it was again evident he was not proficient at this, but with my hands and body language I helped him to find my clit, and how to stroke it. He had to get the timing and pressure right as well as the area, but that didn't take long.

Once he got the hang of what I preferred, his desire nearly went over the top. He feasted as if he were starving, no inhibitions in sight, and his tongue felt so heavenly that I could barely keep my hips on the bed. He moaned the entire time. What a fast learner he was. I felt myself climbing toward orgasm. Somehow he knew just when to stay licking and sucking on my clit, and when to dive in with his tongue. He buried his face in me, and I'd never experienced anything so sensual.

I reached the peak of my arousal very soon, and I started to tremble and shake. Peter instinctively knew what was happening, and he did more of what was driving me nearly mad. I reached the pinnacle, teetered a bit, and went right over the top. My orgasm was mind shattering.

I don't believe I have ever, before or since, cried out that loudly when I came. My hips thrashing uncontrollably, my hands on the back of his head, urging him on, and Peter lapping up all the overflow. He brought me to two more orgasms before stopping, then began to worm his way back up my body.

I flipped him over in the same way he had done with me, although it wasn't easy. He weighed quite a bit more than me. When he tensed, not knowing what I was doing, I said, "Its okay, Peter. Just relax." So he willingly submitted to me and allowed me to lay him on his back.

I couldn't wait for this. I had waited a thousand lifetimes already. I kissed my way down his belly, stopping at his belly button and licking the inside of it while he squirmed. I honestly don't think he expected me to go lower, and when I did, he went completely still, almost as if he were paralyzed with fear.

I marveled at how massive his cock was. Much larger than I had imagined. And the girth was very impressive too. My tongue laved over the top of it, and Peter cried out. I made lazy circles around the head, then up and down the sides, front and back of it, with Peter hardly able to hold still. Then when I sucked deeply and strongly, he came undone. With his hips bucking, his head thrown back and his hands clenched on the sheets, he made a beautiful sight in the moonbeam, as if in a spotlight on the bed.

I didn't want to stop. Not at all... but I wanted to feel him inside of me too. He was enjoying himself so much that I made a split second decision to stay with him. I kept teasing him, licking, sucking, backing off and then returning with a lot of vigor. Within minutes, he cried out suddenly, right in the midst of all his moans and groans, and I knew his climax was almost upon him.

He started to gently push me away- he knew the time was so near, but I stuck to him like Super Glue. I moaned myself, letting him know that it was what I wanted. He exploded seconds later. Spurt after spurt of warm semen filled my mouth.

"Ahhhh! Ahhhh! Ahhhh!" Peter could probably be heard for miles. It seemed to last a decadent eternity. I stayed there for a little while, enjoying the residual twitches and groans. Licking softly as he jerked with the remnants of his orgasm. I did notice he was still hard as a rock.

He pulled me back up. "And now... can we?" Peter croaked as if he were losing his voice.

"Can we?" I echoed, confused. "Do you actually mean you're ready again?"

"Yes! I'm always ready..." his voice trailed off and I knew from the tone that he was embarrassed. "I like it more than once or twice..."

Oh boy, what had I gotten myself into? At the same time, it sounded so provocative.

He had trouble finding and entering me, as, again, he was not as knowledgeable as Davy. But with my help, we managed. It wasn't easy, as he was so big, and his eagerness kept getting in the way. He wanted to thrust before I was quite ready for him. His size was quite an adjustment for me. But when he was finally completely ensheathed inside me, I encouraged him wordlessly, by putting my calves on the outsides of his legs, my hands on his lower back.

Nature took over, and Peter started out very slowly, doing his best to make sure I was satisfied, but at the same time, fighting a battle from within, as his instincts told him to go full steam ahead. I gave him silent permission by matching his movements and gently pressing his buttocks into me with my hands. Faster and faster he went, amidst the most incredible grunts and groans. Less than ten minutes later, I was already exhausted, and Peter came again, accompanied by yet more noise.

We slept together that night, and I began to wonder about Peter's libido when he began making moves on me just an hour after the second time, just as I was drifting off to sleep.

"Peter, what's gotten into you?" I asked, hoping it was merely the fact that our relationship was new that was making him so amorous.

"Oh, I'm always like this," he said.

Needless to say, his dimpled smile was impossible to resist, and we ended up making love yet again.

It goes without saying that I could hardly walk the next day. Not only that, but I was convinced Mike and Micky had heard us the night before. Unless they were deep sleepers, there was no way possible they hadn't heard at least some of it.

I had serious guilt issues about my promise to Mike that I wouldn't even kiss Peter or Davy again. Not only had I done that many times, I'd also made love to both of them. These guys had been nice enough to let me move in with them, and then I went and did this to Mike. Said right to his face that it wouldn't happen again. Nice way to show my appreciation. I would have gone to Mike and confessed if I'd only gone to bed with one of them, but, considering things were happening with both, I could only come out looking very, very bad.

The next night, Peter was eager to go to bed earlier than usual. I had hardly been able to look Mike or Micky in the eye when I got home from work. Now with Peter stating he was tired, and stretching and yawning almost nonstop, I was afraid things were past being obvious.

"Good night, Peter," I said casually, refusing to look up at him, and continuing to read my book. I didn't want to be left alone with the others for fear Mike would say something about the noise we made last night, but I needn't have worried, for Mike acted no different than he always did.

I stayed up until ten, an hour and a half after Peter had gone upstairs. I didn't want to raise any eyebrows by retiring any sooner than that, although I often had gone to bed at nine or nine thirty.

I entered the bedroom and there was Peter, in Davy's bed. Neither one of us said a word, but our eyes were locked. I couldn't tear my gaze away no matter how hard I tried. Desire flashed through me at the sight of his bare torso. I sat down on the bed beside him. He reached up and cupped my cheek with his hand. So tenderly, as if I were something precious that he was afraid of breaking.

"Don't worry-I won't pester you tonight. I know how sore you are," he said softly. "What I want most is to be next to you."

"Oh, Peter-you would never be a pest. But you are right about me being sore. I agree I need a little time off."

"Will you still sleep with me?"

"Of course! How could I stay away?"

We kissed long and slow, and then I took my clothes off. We slept naked together, spooned, and although I knew Peter was sexually charged and uncomfortable, he was a gentleman, and didn't try anything. I was aware of his huge hard on pushed up against my butt all night long. Didn't it ever get soft?

The affection he poured on me never ceased, even in sleep. Some part of his body was touching mine at all times. Whether a hand, leg, foot, or completely pressed up to me, he never broke contact.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Over the next few days, Peter and I spent hours talking every night. We also spent a lot of time making love. I didn't get as much sleep as I was used to after all the talking and love making, but I was young and able to bounce back by catching up on lost sleep on the weekends.

Peter was becoming more confident every day. He rarely blushed anymore, and his love making skills soared once he discovered all my little weaknesses. He was constantly searching for new ways to please me. I melted when he touched me lightly with just his fingertips, running his hands all over me slowly, licking and sucking my neck, sucking a nipple as he rolled the other with his fingers, even talking dirty to me. Whispering suggestively into my ear as if someone else were close by, and might hear. He had to explore that very slowly and haltingly, for fear of offending me. When he found that I found it erotic, he became excited over it himself, and in the midst of our most passionate moments, he would utter some of the most erotic things, in the sweetest, most loving way. He knew all my buttons, and pushed them on a nightly basis.

I found things that Peter liked also. He became almost beside himself when I sucked his tongue, which I did when he had me in a sexual frenzy. And that didn't take a lot-even lots of his deep kissing affected me that way. He began doing the same thing to me, with the same results. He loved when I licked and kissed the head of his cock, which was the most sensitive part. Kissing his neck could cause him to start begging me to stop, and if I didn't, he'd lovingly threaten to take me right then and there, even if we'd just finished a lovemaking session. Peter simply could not get enough.

We were careful to act the same way we always had in Mike and Micky's presence, although I really doubt we were fooling anyone. When we sat on the couch, Peter's leg would always be touching mine. Like in bed, we never lost contact. We couldn't hold hands or kiss, but Peter made sure I was well aware of his presence at all times.

One night as we laid there in bed, face to face in each other's arms, he said, "David's due home tomorrow."

"I know." We hadn't mentioned it for the last two days. Not since we'd last talked to David on the phone. The last time David had called, Peter had taken the phone into another room, and I was dying to ask him what had been said, but he didn't offer to tell me, and I didn't ask. I figured I'd find out soon enough, when David got back.

"Are you nervous... about his return?" he asked.

"Yes and no. Yes, because of what has happened between you and me, and yes, because I know you two are going to talk to me, and no, because I really miss him."

I wasn't making any secret of missing David. Neither was Peter.

"God, I really miss him too. Not that you, Mike and Micky aren't interesting, but this place is kinda like a tomb without Davy."

I laughed. "Yeah, I agree. He has so much personality and charisma. I really miss hearing his laugh."

It was amazing how we could smile at each other and then silently, still holding each other, savor our own private thoughts of Davy, and Peter showed no hint of jealousy at all. It was just understood that Davy had touched us deeply, and was a very special part of our lives.

When Davy arrived at the airport, all four of us were there to meet him, just as we'd been to see him off. It felt almost like a family to me-something I hadn't had in many years. The Monkees were my family-I giggled inwardly at the thought. But I was very nervous and on edge too, considering all that had happened since Davy'd been gone. And oh, did my heart flutter with the anticipation of laying my eyes on him again.

When he appeared, my breath caught in my throat. He'd done it to me again. I was not immune yet. Just seeing him, his glorious good looks set my heart to pounding. I knew now that I'd never completely get used to how startlingly handsome he was. Plenty of other female eyes were on him too. Some even turned around to stare after they'd already passed him. He really was stunning. His hair was longer-just the way I liked it, his eyes had their signature sparkle, and he walked up to us as if he had the world at his feet, confidence glowing from within. Even after the long flight, he was charged and bright.

His eyes held an unspoken question directed toward Peter and I as he approached us after his handshake and back slapping ritual with Mike and Micky. No one said a word of course-that would take place later when the three of us were alone, but I saw the inquiry in his eyes, and the impatience too. He hugged us both long and hard. I was watching very closely, and I did see a look pass between himself and Peter, and I had the feeling that Davy already knew just by looking at Peter's eyes. Or the phone conversation...

The trip home was filled with conversation of England and Davy's family, Davy's horses that he'd missed so much and had ridden, things he'd done and how it had been hard for him to sleep away from home. He'd called America home, and I knew then how significant that word was, that he was basically saying he would be staying in America for good.

Sitting between them on the way home was even more eerie than the time I'd been squished between them on the couch. This time, they were both my lovers. And both had body contact with me. This wasn't unusual, but the longing for not just one of them, but both, had me wanting to jump out the window for fear I'd do something indecent.

All five of us claimed we were exhausted soon after we got to the pad, so there was no expectancy from the others for us to stay up later. And no obligation... so we all went to our respective bedrooms.

My heart was beating double time on the way up the steps. I swear Peter and Davy must have heard it; the thumping was deafening. I didn't know if Peter and Davy planned on talking to me tonight or not. It was Friday, so I didn't have to be up early for work tomorrow. It just depended on how tired David was from the flight, I concluded to myself. If he wanted to talk, I had no excuse. I'd have to face up to it and hear them out. As frightening as that was. I just wished I had some clue what it was about. It was the not knowing that was the most disturbing. I was hopeful that they weren't going to tell me I'd have to move out, that I couldn't have two lovers in the same household. But then. . . Peter had said it could be very good or very bad, depending on how I looked at it. That comment wasn't helping at all right now.

The door was closed by David, the last one in the bedroom.

"How is everyone feeling?" he asked. Not really a question I was expecting right then.

"I'm just fine," I said. "But what about you? After that long flight?"

"I slept several hours on the plane, and actually I'm feeling pretty much rested."

"No problem here. I'm fine too," was Peter's input.

I had been eyeing Peter, and he was the relaxed, easy going Peter that he always was. Didn't seem tense or nervous in the least. He must not be worried. That helped just a trace with my uneasiness.

"So we can talk now?" David was looking back and forth at the two of us.

"Sure," Peter and I responded in stereo.

David then proceeded to push the twin beds just a little closer to each other, until they were no more than 3 feet apart. He sat down on his bed, and to my surprise, Peter sat down next to him. I opted to sit on Peter's bed, opposite them. I gathered Davy wanted a lot of eye contact for this talk. I felt my palms growing clammy, and I wished it were over.

"God, its good to have you back." Peter put his arm around Davy's shoulders and squeezed, laying his head briefly-only for a second, on Davy's shoulder. Interesting behavior, I thought. Davy's arm went around Peter's shoulder as well, and he returned the squeeze.

"I know you guys want to talk to me, and I wish you would, as I've been waiting about a week to hear it, and its really starting to bug me." I figured I'd better speak up, or I'd burst.

"Okay," Davy took over, as I knew he would. "Peter and I talked on the phone, as you know, but also in private... no sneaked calls, mind you. It was the same phone call when I called you guys the last time before I came home," he explained.

"I might as well get to the point straight away, as I know you must be worrying," he indicated me as he said this. I nodded.

"I know you and Peter were... together while I was gone. And no... Peter didn't tell me. I sensed it in his voice, and he didn't deny it."

I looked at Peter to see what reaction, if any, he'd show. Not much. He just smiled at David, an open look on his face. I couldn't detect a speck of shame or uneasiness.

I nodded slightly at David, pointedly meeting his gaze. He deserved that and so much more. So far, he showed no signs of distress.

" As soon as I saw you two at the airport, I knew for sure. Pete just assumed I knew anyway, since that's how things usually go with us. What we talked about on the phone is... how we would go about telling you a secret that should have been revealed... a long time ago."

This was the most confused I'd ever been. A secret? I had thought me sleeping with Peter would have been more than enough material for a serious discussion. But this... I was really baffled now. This must be the "there's more" Peter had already mentioned to me days ago. My mouth must surely have been hanging open because Davy didn't waste any more time torturing me.

"Peter, do you want to talk, or do you want me to finish what we're going to tell her?"

"You're better at discussing things like this, David. Go ahead."

Davy nodded. "What you need to know is that Peter and I... are more than... just friends."

At first, I couldn't grasp his meaning, even though it was about as clear as he could make it. I was just too jarred. Stunned to the point of not even being able to talk. I just stared at them both in silence.

"You see, we would have told you soon after you moved in, except... things got in the way. I started to get interested in you. And as if that weren't bad enough, Peter got hung up on you too."

"So..." he continued. "That really made things get complicated fast. Before we even had a chance to catch our breath, we found ourselves not only attracted to each other, but to you too... We're hoping you might find it in your heart to try to understand. There just wasn't any right time to tell you... what with everything else that was going on. Although I know that's not a good excuse."

"So we deceived you, even though we never meant to. We've never kept anything from you-this is the only thing. But I know... its a big thing."

There was a brief silence and I knew David was allowing me to let what he'd just said sink in. I fought to find my voice, but to no avail. I suppose I was in a temporary state of shock.

"The last thing we'd ever do is hurt you, Kerri," this time Peter chimed in. "But we both felt something for you, and we were also afraid of scaring you away."

"But... but when you say you two... are more than just friends..." was all I could coax out of my dry mouth and throat.

Davy made it easier for me. "Kerri... Peter and I are lovers."

I clutched my chest with one hand, and with the other hand I covered the side of my face. Calm down, I said to myself. This was unreal. Okay, so I'd had clues. I realized now that I should have taken them seriously. The touching, the hugs that lasted too long, the brushing of Davy's hair, Peter loving the smell of Davy's sheets... but I'd thought these things were just an extension of all the Monkees' behavior, even though they were more extreme than anything I'd seen Mike or Micky do. I should have been prepared, but if the truth be known, I hadn't been... at all. I didn't know what to say or do. I was floating about in a fog, trying to make sense of it all.

In my mind, I'd thought that there was a puzzle somewhere, but I hadn't listened to the voice inside my head close enough, apparently. I'd even gone so far as to think Peter might possibly have a crush on Davy. But even then, I'd doubted it. The thought, however, that they could be lovers had never even entered my mind.

"We wanted to break it to you more gently, but decided there really wasn't any possible way to do that. Best to just... come right out with it."

Davy sat there, looking helpless. Peter took his hand. Seeing this was so otherworldly weird to me. To see two men holding hands... I'd never seen two men show this kind of affection to each other. This was back in the 60s, after all, and the subject matter was still taboo.

"What can we do to help you? Tell us how you feel..." David looked very worried. "Would it help if you came over and sat between us?"

I shook my head mutely. "I think I just need to go to bed. This is too much for me right now. Can we talk about it tomorrow? Wait... how long has this been going on?"

David shrugged his shoulders. "Maybe four or five months before you moved in."

"Four months and three weeks," Peter threw in. He was a stickler for details and dates.

Longer than I would have thought. I had imagined it might have been a month or two at the most. So they must know each other pretty well...real well. My mind was working overtime. I wasn't repulsed, just shocked. All the months I'd lived with them, and didn't know.

"I agree with Kerri," said Peter. "Let's wait until tomorrow. I think she's had more than enough for today."

"Agreed," David smiled at both of us. "And now, Kerri and I haven't had a welcome home kiss. Would you like to, Kerri, or would you rather wait?" There went my cheeks turning red again.

"Of course I'll give you a welcome home kiss."

"Would you rather Peter wait outside, or stay?"

I hesitated. How could I ask Peter to leave? Yet again, how could I kiss David in front of Peter?

"Don't worry-Peter and I kiss too." Davy smiled to soften the blow. All that did was put graphic pictures into my head that I didn't know if I was ready for.

"Stay, Peter," I said, and it took a lot of effort. Kissing one of my lovers in front of the other?

David got up from the bed, letting go of Peter's hand. I looked into Peter's eyes and saw only benign sweetness, and knew he was fine with it. How could he be like that? But then I realized how unselfish he really was. He cared a lot about both of us.

David sat down beside me on the bed and wrapped his arms around me. "I missed you so much, and I need a kiss from you after two weeks of being away from you," he said softly, as if Peter weren't even in the room.

I needed it desperately. I'd had a frantic need to kiss Davy from the moment I'd spied him at the airport. So we kissed. And it wasn't a peck, either. David kissed me the way he would if we were all alone. Long, slow, wet... and so sweet. At first, I held back, trying to break the kiss at one point. But Davy held onto me. sensing how much I needed him.

So I kissed him back, although not with the same gusto I would have if Peter weren't less than 3 feet away. Still, it was a heartfelt, fairly passionate kiss.

Afterward I was afraid to even look at Peter. "Does that bother you at all?" David asked Peter directly.

"No. I thought it was kind of nice," came Peter's simple answer. What he meant by nice, I wasn't entirely sure.

"Just one more thing before we go to bed," said Davy. "Peter and I haven't kissed hello either. Do you want to leave or stay, Kerri? Pick your poison." Davy smiled and winked at me to try to ease my tension a bit.

Resolve hit me then. This was something I couldn't run away from forever. I might as well start getting used to it tonight.

Keep in mind I'd never seen two guys hold hands, let alone kiss. I was scared to death, but I held my ground. "I'll stay."

Davy returned to the other bed, and I wanted to look away, but I wanted to watch even more. The two options warred inside of me. I decided to watch. It was fascinating. Davy's arms were around Peter's neck, much the way I did when kissing either of them, and Peter's hands encircled Davy's waist. Seeing their two heads together, brunette and blonde, and both male, with their lips engulfed in a deep, feeling kiss, I felt disembodied. It felt like a dream, or a movie that I was watching, not something I was actually involved in. Well, not physically involved, but certainly, without a doubt, involved. Like it or not.

And like it, I did. At first, I denied it to myself, but the longer the kiss lasted, the more I enjoyed it. It was a positively passionate kiss. Despite myself, I felt a spark of desire stirring in my middle. The sparks ignited to a flame. I tried to stomp it out, but it wasn't going anywhere. I didn't want to admit it, but seeing the two of them kiss was sexually exciting for me. What was wrong with me? Didn't only mentally "off" people get turned on by people of the same gender kissing or...having sex? Boy, I must be one sick person!

Suddenly, it occured to me that Davy and Peter had been making love here, in this bedroom before I came to live here. I had intruded, interrupted their little love nest. I felt awful. They hadn't been able to make love or even sleep together in the same bed in over 4 months. Maybe they'd snuck off together every once in a while, but it wouldn't have been the same. And then they had both started having feelings for me...and I for both of them. Man, these past few months must have been hell for them.

When they were done kissing, they both had a hard time looking at me. Especially Peter. Davy, however, recovered and asked me if that had made me feel uncomfortable.

"No, not like I thought it would. It would defintely take some getting used to, though."

"Listen..." I struggled to find a way to say this diplomatically. "Do you guys want me to sleep on the couch tonight? Or from now on? I'll understand."

I suddenly felt like an outsider. And I also felt ridiculously selfish. Getting these two guys to myself, and all the time the two of them wanting each other... possibly more than they wanted me. Were they in love? Or just enjoying the sex? The kiss seemed to imply the former. I had so many questions that my mind was reeling.

"Absolutely not...Peter and I discussed it, and we want to keep the sleeping arrangements the same." Davy was adamant in his response to my question.

Peter nodded. "I second that."

"We obviously have to talk about this more, but I think we're all tired enough now to just go to bed. Let's plan to talk about this when we have sufficient time. I don't know how long it'll take, but I'd say...maybe a couple of hours. There's a lot of territory to cover," Davy said.

"Tomorrow, or Sunday. Whatever is good for everyone. Sound good?" Peter and I nodded.

So we all went to bed, Peter back in his hammock, and me feeling more guilt than I'd had in a very long time.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

I was restless all night, tossing and turning, fighting off a headache that ached behind my eyes. Dreaming about Davy and Peter and our upcoming talk. Missing Peter beside me, as we'd slept together for the last few previous nights. I kept reaching out for his warmth. But at least he wasn't far away-the hammock was only a couple of feet to my right.

It was unseasonably warm the next day, so Peter, Davy and I decided to walk along the beach, and find a place to sit in the sand on our beach towels and talk. Mike and Micky were hanging around the pad, and we really didn't want to have the discussion at there for fear we might be overheard.

We ended up at the big rock where Peter and I had kissed not that long ago. I knew David was eager to get everything out into the open, as he was just that type. He was nothing if not straightforward. This secret he and Peter had, had been eating away at him for a long time, he had disclosed as we walked.

David told me to go ahead and start the conversation, as he knew I would have a lot of questions. I didn't know where to start, as right now, there seemed to be no end to all my questions.

"Okay, I'll start with this... Are you guys gay? I don't see how you could be, as you're both interested in me."

Peter spoke up. "No, I guess, technically... we'd have to be classified as bi, since we're both interested in the opposite sex. But we aren't interested in other guys... just each other. So I don't know if that officially qualifies us as bi... or not."

"I have to agree with that. Neither one of us has ever been interested in another guy. Peter and I just seem to have a special affinity for each other, and it just kinda happened after we'd been living together for a while. Not all at once either-very gradually. I can't explain it, or why it even happened, but once it did...well, we both knew it was what we wanted. But, yes... we are both drawn to women, and always have been. We're very normal in that respect."

"So what do you do about it? Or...that is, what did you do about women before I moved in?"

"We still went out with women. Peter's really shy, as you know, so he didn't go out as much as I did. But women never interferred with our relationship. We never talked about it really-we just lived our lives as usual, but didn't bring women home. We also had to keep up appearances with Mike and Mick though. But to be honest, before you moved in, we really hadn't been feeling that much need for women. We were happy with just the two of us."

"So I really messed things up..." I was thoughtful.

"No, you fit in so naturally, it was uncanny," said Peter. I believed him. Peter was not inclined to lie. I didn't know if he even could. "But yes... we were frustrated both romantically and sexually because we couldn't sleep together anymore. We couldn't show affection in front of Mike and Mick before you came, of course, but... we always had the bedroom at night to ourselves."

"And I took that away from you." I was feeling worse and worse, wondering how I could put things right for them again. They deserved their privacy.

"Now, you know that isn't true. If we hadn't gotten attracted to you, then yes... I guess that would be the case. But the fact is, we're both torn... two ways."

Davy nodded in silent agreement.

"What do we do about this?" I could see no solution. "Its not fair for you guys to sleep apart. I think you should sleep together again."

"Oh, we didn't sleep together every night-just two, three times a week, maybe," said Peter. "I mean... sometimes I'd go back to my bed after... well, you know."

"Wait, now... when you say 'sleep together,' do you mean continue with the relationship we had before you moved in, or...?" David was directing the question at me.

I blushed furiously. It took me a moment to compose myself.

"Of course, the same relationship. I could just go sleep on the couch."

"I think I can safely speak for Peter-Peter, tell me if you disagree with anything I say, but we wouldn't want you sleeping on the couch. I'm going to... run something by you...Peter too, since he and I haven't discussed anything like this...but, oh man, I'm afraid you'll run scared if I say this..." David trailed off.

"No, go ahead," I insisted. "Really, what could be worse than what's already happened? I mean, I've... been with both of you. If you two... need the bedroom...I understand that."

"Well, what I was going to say is... would it freak you out if Peter and I..." Davy couldn't seem to bring himself to say what he wanted to.

Peter finished Davy's thought for him, which didn't surprise me. "I think what David is trying to say is, would it bother you if we slept together with you in the room."

I knew what he meant-not merely sleep together, but make love together while I was in the room.

My throat went dry. This was insane. Words wouldn't form. Before last night, I'd never even seen two guys hold hands, and now I was faced with two guys wanting to make love to each other in the same bedroom that I slept in, while I was there.

"Good heavens... you really sprung a good one on me, didn't you?" I managed to croak out.

"Hey, no one's saying you have to give us an answer now. Just think about it and let us know. No one is going to pressure you-you already know us too well for that. I think I know Peter well enough to safely say he'll be fine with it." He arched his eyebrows questioningly at Peter, and Peter nodded solemnly. "Otherwise I would never have brought it up until after discussing it with Peter. But like I said before, Peter and I always seem to be on the same page."

I was envious. Envious of how close they were-how they communicated in so many ways, often without even having to talk to each other. They were so fine tuned. Where did all this leave me, I wondered. It looked like I was losing both of them. I was the odd man out. They were probably in love. Although they hadn't said it right out, it was pretty apparent. They had been using me to take the pressure off. The affection they were missing from each other, and the intimacy too. I'm sure they hadn't meant to do it, but I was afraid that that's what it amounted to in the end. I knew neither of them was selfish-I'd lived with them long enough to know that. Maybe they hadn't even realized what they had been doing. To sum it up, they were a couple, and nothing was going to change that.

Over the next few days, I did a lot of thinking. Way too much thinking. I felt sad, almost depressed. I didn't want to give either of them up, but I also didn't want to be selfish. What they had together had to take priority. Deep within me though, I longed for a solution, and I felt there might be a pin prick light of hope that things would somehow work out. They'd said they both had feelings for me. Did this mean they would still be seeing me too? Or would I be out of the picture now, for both of them? No one had enlarged on that, but because things were so complicated I supposed that we all needed time to think it over, and perhaps, by some miracle, someone would bring up a workable solution.

Yet, at the same time, the more I thought about David and Peter as a couple, the more intrigued I became. I wondered if there must be something wrong with me for being so curious about it. I couldn't shake the memory of how aroused watching them kiss had made me. But by the same token, it was a bit frightening. I tried to imagine them making love, these two men that I'd grown so fond of, but the image just wouldn't come to me.

Before I even knew what was happening, I suddenly realized I was obsessed with the thought of Davy and Peter making love. A lot of my waking moments, as well as my dreams at night involved it. I wanted to see it happen. If I agreed to them sleeping together with me there, in the same room, I could satisfy my curiosity. After having that thought for the first time, I felt so shamed, even demented.

It would have been nice if I could have brought up the subject of my curiosity with them, but I was afraid they would think I was deranged. They'd been so open with me about this-I wished I could do the same about sharing my thoughts, but I was ashamed to admit the idea of seeing them together excited me.

I reminded myself that the longer I delayed, the longer the two of them had to go without being together, and I knew it had to have been weeks, at the very least. And by not bringing the subject up, I was only making them wait longer. I wanted both of them with a deep, searing ache, but it was true that they'd been together much longer than either had been with me, so it was only natural that they'd be dying to be close to each other again, as things used to be before I came along.

But how was I to approach them about this delicate subject without embarrassing the living hell out of myself? I just couldn't see myself doing it.

It would be much easier, and simpler, to tell them that I felt they should sleep together (in every sense of the word) because it was, after all, their bedroom first. But if I were to actually come out and say the whole truth- that I also wanted to witness their lovemaking, I don't know if I'd ever be able to look either of them in the eye ever again. Was that a lie by omission?

David, however, took matters into his own hands the next weekend. I'd noticed him eyeing me afterward whenever he gave Peter a good night kiss, which had become a regular thing. He gave us both a good night kiss every night, and I also kissed Peter.

"You look rather inquisitive," David said to me gently one night after he and Peter had shared an especially feeling kiss. "Would you possibly like to see more? You know... I wouldn't say that if I we hadn't taken notice of you watching us kiss every night. And its a pretty... intense look you have."

Peter had gone downstairs to check for his lost keys when David had said this to me. He had been discreet enough not to say it in front of Peter, in the event that it would embarrass me even more. He knew the subject made me uncomfortable, to say the very least.

He'd turned out the light so that only the nightlight shone dimly on his pillow. I think he had snuffed out the light in an attempt to diminish my discomfort.

"Well... I have thought about what you said last weekend. About you two sleeping together again."

"And?" Wasn't that just like David to never push anything. He wanted it to be my idea.

"And... I think its nice... you and Peter. I've thought about it a lot, and I'm not quite so much in shock about it anymore." That was about all I was capable of admitting right then.

"Are you jealous?"

I nodded. "Yes, a little. But I think I'm more afraid of losing either of you, or both of you, than anything else. "

"Neither one of us wants that to happen. I think the only way it would... is if you decided you couldn't handle what's between Peter and myself, and cut things off yourself."

"Oh, with all the thinking I've done lately, I don't think I have a problem with you and Peter. Its just that...what will happen now... with me?"

"Whatever you want to happen." His gaze was direct, even in the dim light I could see the seriousness of his expression. "Peter and I would both like you to stay close to us."

What did he mean by that? Stay close to us. Stay close as friends? Or close as lovers? I was too embarrassed to ask. Was he insinuating that I continue to see them both?

I heard Peter flip on the TV downstairs. "Why is he watching TV?" I asked.

"He's giving us a little time to discuss this." So much for Peter's "lost" keys. Davy squirmed on his bed, as if he couldn't find a comfortable position. But I think it was nerves-something I didn't often observe in Davy. Something was brewing...

" I'm going to ask you something straight out. If you don't want to answer, you know you don't have to. But you seem very torn... and I know you're still in shock over this whole thing, but would you ever... consider... watching Peter and I together... to see if you could live with it?"

Ah, the moment had come. He'd asked it so openly. There went the furious blushing again. How was I going to answer this? Honestly? I suppose I had to, even if it killed me.

"Yes, David. I'd consider it. You... have no idea how difficult this is..."

He knew precisely what I meant. He knew I didn't mean it was hard to see my two lovers together, but that it was difficult for me to admit the idea actually appealed to me. He knew all this without me saying a word. His knowing nod told me so.

"We can arrange that. Right now I think you're on overload again, so we can bring it up again soon, yeah?" He kissed my lips briefly and sweetly, then summoned Peter.

Before Peter could switch off the TV and come up the stairs, I asked David one more question.

"Um, David? Doesn't it bother you, or embarrass you... to... do that...in front of me?"

"Like you, I've done a lot of thinking. So much that I'm in a quandary. And if it were anyone else, I wouldn't even think about it. But with it being you... well, its a different story. It might be a bit awkward, but then again, maybe not. As for Peter, he's so uninhibited that I wouldn't be surprised if he agreed to do it on a public sidewalk." Davy laughed then. I had to laugh too, knowing all too well myself about Peter's sexual appetite.

Peter's dimpled smile tugged at my heart as he came in the door. The look that passed between them must have said it all, for Peter smiled at me and hugged me.

"Did you find your keys?" I asked.

"Uh, yeah. They were behind the couch cushions."

"They were never lost at all, were they?" I asked with a smile.

"Actually, no, they weren't."

Nothing in this world was hotter to me than watching Peter and Davy perform together. They were almost always on the right side of the stage, if you faced it, close together, with Mike on the opposite side by himself, and Micky way back there, on the drums.

Davy, the "world's best tambourine player" was entertaining enough to watch all by himself, but add Peter Tork on his bass, and you had instant magic. Blonde and brunette, hazel eyes and brown eyes. Both with the sexiest moves no one else was ever quite be able to imitate. The two of them kept the group upbeat and interesting. Mike didn't move around much at all most of the time. His seriousness along with Micky's oftentimes goofiness, and other times quiet earnestness, depending on his mood, all somehow worked together to create a strange balance.

Peter and David smiled at each other when singing, and sometimes held each other's eyes for a few seconds, and that's when the chemistry would be palpable. Talking with their eyes again. Probably caressing too, in their minds. I could sit there and just watch it all day without growing bored for a minute.

Peter's bass had a strange effect on me. It seemed to go right through my body, into my chest, and lodge in my heart, then slither through my veins, throbbing with a sexual stirring that was most unsettling, yet delicious.

How could a bass guitar turn me on? I think it had much more to do with the man playing it than the bass itself. The wonderful rhythm of it, the low droning that complimented Mike's guitar perfectly, constant, just under the surface, the reverberation of it, and watching him play it was more than half the fun. He caressed it as if it were a living thing. Peter's banjo didn't have the same effect, but rather an effect all its own. The same with the keyboards. In summary, Peter playing an instrument was, to me, like watching him having amazing, romantic sex with music. There I went again, thinking about watching Peter make love. Rather, watching Davy and Peter make love.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

"Peter and I have been talking most of the day... We've decided to ask you if you want to try something tonight." David looked ill at ease when he voiced this to me in private. We were in the living room, and the others were out doing various Friday night guy things. Peter was due home in one hour, according to David. Giving David time to talk to me about it, I thought.

"You expressed an interest...in Peter and me. Would you feel uncomfortable if we were to act the way we did with each other before you moved in? For a little while? Tonight?"

I knew exactly what he was getting at, but I was so flustered about answering it that I stammered, "What...what... do you mean?"

"Do you want to find out how you feel about Peter and me... being intimate?" David was fidgeting, having difficulty articulating this, and I wasn't making it any easier for him.
The least I could do was stop acting as if I didn't know what he was talking about.

"I guess...I could try. I don't know how I'll react for sure, though." I felt flummoxed, not having expected this tonight. But then again, I'd been putting off talking to David about it.

"If, at any time... you don't feel comfortable...even the slightest bit... I want you to tell us. We'll stop...or you can go out of the room...whichever you prefer."

Suddenly, Davy just walked away. His back looked stiff with tension. I think he was just too overcome to continue. Its possible he chickened out halfway through his query and just shut down.

I waited until Peter came home, then I took David aside. "Alright, I'll try. I can't make any guarantees as to how it'll affect me, though." My stomach was fluttering, my breath was short and I felt dizzy.

"Any reservations on your part at all... and I don't think its a good idea."

"I'm game. At least for now."

"Okay, when do you want to..." Davy trailed off, obviously uneasy and almost to the point of agitation. I got the feeling he was on the verge of feeling badly that he'd even brought the subject up.

Adrenaline was swooshing through me in huge waves, more powerful by the second. I felt like running...anywhere-just to get away from this. But at the same time, I was excited beyond description. I wanted this-yet I didn't. It was terrifying and exhilarating at once.

"Whenever...you just let me know when."

"Do you need more time? I mean... days, weeks. Not minutes or hours."

"No, let's do it tonight. I need to face this now. I care so much about both of you..." I felt like sobbing. Davy silently held me close. I saw him glance at Peter.

"All you have to do is say the word... and it won't happen." This came from Peter. Obviously he had heard what was being said. I couldn't answer. I just sat down on the couch.

"How about one wine cooler-no more than two at the most?" asked Peter with a sly smile.

He had a point there. It would take the edge off, give me courage enough to face what was coming. Hey, it had worked for Peter and I on that day that seemed so long ago now. I had since told David the story, and he chuckled as he brought me one of my coolers. He and Peter didn't drink anything-they just stared at each other with an interesting expression. I think they were both terribly excited about being together again, and worried about my reaction. It must have been a lot more difficult for them than it was for me, now that I thought about it. I hoped it didn't sour them on the idea-having someone watch. That would be a shame.

As it turned out, I needn't have worried. An hour and two wine coolers later, Peter and David quietly went up the stairs, with me in close pursuit. There was a lump in my throat that I couldn't seem to swallow. I was more relaxed, but still very tremulous about this whole thing. This was something very big, and I was about to learn more about life than I might want to know in a very short while.

"Okay, here's the plan. Tell me if you would prefer we do it differently," Davy explained. "Peter and I are going to act just as if we were all alone-like we acted before we even knew you. It will be a typical night, like it was back then ...I'll be reading a book on the bed, and Peter will be downstairs. Peter will come up to bed for the night, and we'll be as natural as possible. We both feel confident we can do this."

"So no...show for my benefit?" I asked.

"No... nothing different from how it was between us before. Remember... say something immediately if you want us to stop, or if you feel you have to leave the room."

"I will, I promise."

"Alright. I'm going to undress and get into bed, just like I used to do. I would often read before bed... so I'm going to do that too, and then Peter is going to come up the stairs, and you'll witness a typical night. No acting, no phoniness of any kind. Peter and I have already discussed it."

"Okay, I'm ready."

David proceeded to undress in front of me. No need to hide to do it-I'd already seen both of them naked anyway. The one thing I couldn't help but notice was Davy's arousal once he stripped off his underwear. Fully erect. Anticipation-yep, he really had the hots for Peter. Peter wasn't even in the room yet! Davy seemed a bit out of sorts with me watching, so he slipped under his sheets and pulled them up to his waist.

He picked up a book he already had sitting on the endtable and proceeded to pretend he was reading it, using his reading lamp. Less than 10 minutes later, Peter came in. "Hi, babe!" He said casually.

"Hi Pete," Davy looked over his shoulder at Peter standing there just inside the door and smiled warmly at him. "just let me just finish these last few sentences on this page." I had to admit they were doing a fantastic acting job. They both looked so at ease.

I didn't have any idea what to expect, so reminded myself that I had to be prepared. I was comfortable in my bed already, lying quietly and watching every move they both made intently. I didn't want to miss a single thing.

Peter walked to Davy's bed and sat down, then positioned himself behind Davy, as Davy's back was to him so he could get the full benefit of his bedside lamp. Peter laid down, his body molded to Davy's, his arm casually thrown over Davy's midriff.

Shortly, David stopped reading, put the book back on the endtable, and rolled over onto his back. This is where my anxiety really started to kick in. Or was it just anticipation?

Peter's hand cupped Davy's cheek and rubbed it ever so lightly, smiling into David's eyes. It was so sweet, it took my breath away. Davy placed his hands on Peter's upper arms, gently feeling and squeezing the lean muscling there.

"Tired?" asked David.

"Oh no... not tonight." Peter's voice was soft and full of innuendo. "Are you?"

"No...I've been waiting for you," Davy's voice was teasingly enticing.

Peter lowered his head to Davy's lips. Somehow I'd imagined Davy would be the aggressor. But perhaps they took turns-who knew? For now, anyway, Peter was taking the lead. And there was no lack of confidence on his part. No hesitation at all. It was very clear to me that they had been making love for a long time for Peter to be this assured. He showed not a trace of the shyness he had with me in the beginning.

Peter licked Davy's bottom lip very lightly, then put his mouth over Davy's. This kiss was in an entirely different class than the good night kisses I'd been witnessing lately. It was a lover's kiss, with Peter's brand of passion written all over it. He kissed Davy lightly at first, then, as he did with me, he deepened the kisses until he was delving deeply into Davy's mouth with his tongue. He was more straightforward than he was with me, so all I could assume was that Peter knew what David liked, and he went for it fairly quickly.

My view was perfect-I could see their lips and mouths in detail, and I felt that familiar curl of desire whipping around in my belly as the kiss became more and more intense. It was about that time that I noticed the sheet tented, and knew it was Davy's erection pointing straight up.

After a very long series of kisses, Peter's mouth graduated to Davy's neck, and he nibbled and licked at it. I heard his labored breathing, knowing how excited he was. Davy was exposing his neck, head back, holding Peter's head lightly with his hands. "Ummm..."

Peter's hand languidly roamed over David's arms and chest. He was taking his time, being lazy, almost. He was going to get the most out of this. I wondered if he'd slowed down because of the lessons I'd given him on taking his time, or if he was usually this way with Davy. Whatever the reason, it was stimulating me almost painfully, wondering what would happen next. I had absolutely no revulsion for this-at least not so far. I was enjoying myself immensely.

"Let me get undressed." Peter stood up and as he shed his clothes. I almost forgot how to breathe. When his pants and underwear came off, his erection was enormous. It stood straight up, almost reaching his belly button.

The lust in his eyes was very clear as he looked down at Davy, hardly able to contain himself from touching him long enough to settle himself back down on the bed, pulling the sheet down and back at the same time. Now everything was exposed-both their beautiful naked bodies with fully engorged cocks.

Here we were, in the midst of the hippie era; me... a gently raised, "good" girl who had manners and had gone to Sunday school every week. Who knew how to respect my elders and always said "please" and "thank you." Protected, shielded from the world.

And here I was-watching my two male lovers together. It hit me hard. It was against everything I'd been taught. Looking back, I couldn't see then what I see crystal clear now...I was young, with a good bit of growing up to do yet, a lot of experience to gain, in an experimental stage of life. Just a young person learning about life. It was natural, I was inquisitive. I shouldn't have been so uptight about it. It was that simple.

However, despite my misgivings and foreboding, I ventured forward nonetheless. And in the process, I learned a lot about love. Watching this encounter on this night changed me. I learned there is much more than the man/woman, white picket fence, happily forever after kind of love. Love is often so much more complicated than that.

As Peter and Davy embraced again, I saw how close their bodies were, could see the slight gyrations of their bodies, and knew they were rubbing against each other. Peter's hands gently cupped Davy's buttocks for more friction. All the while, they kissed fervently.

I could feel it in the air-how long it had been for them. Even though each of them had been with me a few times, they had been craving each other, thirsting for a good long drink as if in the desert, or starving for a good meal after fasting for a very long time.

They were good together-I could see that even at this early stage of their lovemaking. Peter's moans filled the room-Davy's softer noises that came from deep in his throat echoed them.

Davy burrowed his nose into the hair on Peter's chest, working his way over to a nipple, then licking it, causing Peter to gasp. Long, slow licks. Sucking, licking. He turned his torso sideways on the bed when he leaned over to Peter's opposite nipple to give it the same treatment, so Peter could do the same to him simutaneously. This continued for a while.

Davy's hand was now on Peter's erection, grasping it firmly and pulling at it, as if he were trying to bring Peter closer to him still, even though he and Peter were pressed up tight together. Davy's hand now slid down to the base, and out came a loud moan from Peter. Up and down he stroked, until Peter jerked away, grabbing hold of Davy's erection and beginning to stroke it.

I knew enough to know they were trying to hold off on their orgasms. But it had been so long...they were really struggling to hold back.

David subtly signaled Peter, and Peter reached over to turn off the reading lamp. The nightlight was perfect-it shed a soft warm glow over the two of them without any brightness, but yet enough illumination for me to see everything that was happening. Enough for me to be able to see their faces, their bodies as they writhed against each other.

Peter was whispering in David's ear. I could just barely make out the words. "Do you want my lips around your cock?" I very nearly gasped, as I'd never heard either one of them utter that kind of language in my presence before.

"Yes..." David's voice sounded breathless.

"I want it, it want it so damn bad," Peter's voice was coarse with raw need. His body slithered down Davy's as smooth as butter, and when his mouth latched onto Davy, I knew I could very easily reach climax right now if I even so much as touched myself. This was the most sexually turned on I'd ever been in my life.

Davy willingly spread his legs, and I could see Peter's lips and tongue working on the head of Davy's hard on. Aggressively. Erotic doesn't even begin to describe what it looked like. Peter gave the head a lot of loving attention, then began to meet Davy's blind, frantic thrusts by running his lips up and down the length of Davy's penis. David was not able to stop-I could see that very clearly.

"Ahhh...Ahhh...Ahhh..." David was crying out louder than he had moaned. "Peter, damn, I can't wait any longer... oh, PETER!" He thrust hard upward three or four times, and I knew what was happening. Peter was sucking hard, and I saw him swallow several times. God Almighty, but I was soaking wet, and shaking with desire at seeing this right before my eyes.

Peter took his time, not abandoning Davy's cock right away. He lovingly licked it until Davy gently pulled him back up. David's face was flushed and his eyes were half closed from passion, but there was something else there too. Determination, firm intention.

"Come here, Pete. I've been waiting way too long for this."